Mine Is A Four Letter Word
by Sleepy Lotus
Summary: Sookie didn't like the idea of belonging to anyone. Not Bill, nor the Queen, nor Eric…She tried to remind herself of that, staring up into those intense eyes, deep and blue as the north seas he once sailed, a thousand years ago… Eric/Sookie goodness.
1. Prologue: Geography

**Mine Is A Four Letter Word**

**By: Sleepy Lotus**

**Prologue: **

**Geography**

"_Sookie." _

_She did not answer my call, not even looking up from her brown study into blank space. I took her moment of preoccupation to take in the sight of her, eyes roving over her form, golden blond hair framing that lovely face, brow slightly furrowed in thought, in a way I strangely found cute. But the rest of her, oh, she had not dressed for _**cute**_, as they say. Her dress was red, crimson as fresh spilt blood and just as enticing, offering the mounds of her breasts as a platter of ripe fruit, clinging to her curves, and leaving the view of shapely legs crossed at the ankles like a lady, the way her Gran taught her, no doubt, free to view for anyone who dared. _

_She claimed the mode of dress merely helped her feel more incognito here at Fangtasia, when she scanned the crowd for me, a supplement employment to waiting tables at the shifter's bar. But Sookie drew vampire attention as a moth to a flame without such trappings; the dress did not help her fade into the background at all. No, not in the least. _

"_Sookie!" I tried again, and this time was rewarded with a flashing glance of cornflower blue eyes. She blinked, freeing herself from the spell of her thoughts, shaking herself free of her dream world. "You are even more distracted than usual tonight, lover. What's on your mind?"_

_Sookie leaned upon her hand, rolling eyes in my direction. We were not lovers, but I delighted in proclaiming it, and not just for the reaction it pulled from the little telepath. For sure as rain I knew it would someday be true. "Eric, where is Stockholm?"_

_Her question surprised me, even delighted me, both rare things for a mere human to accomplish. I turned my head, studying the girl, wondering what could possibly have her thinking of such things as geography in a place such as this, where most humans and vampires alike only thought of sex and blood. _

"_Sweden," I answered, thinking that perhaps her thoughts of me turned her to mulling this subject. It was moments like this I wished I were the telepath. "My country, long ago."_

"_Yes. Bill told me."_

"_Did he now?"_

"_Yes. And Oslo? Where is Oslo?"_

_My nose turned just a bit at the mention of it, though in truth we were not so different in culture, or even language. "Norway."_

_I stood from my desk chair, having finished writing her check for the night. Was employing her services my way of niggling even more into her life? Perhaps a bit, though I'd be damned if she didn't actually prove to be absolutely valuable at times, particularly when things went missing. Money. Alcohol. Staff. _

_Laying the check upon the armrest, which boasted a generous sum, I knelt before Sookie. Even on my knees, I nearly matched her in height. Ever so slightly she squirmed at our proximity, even as her eyes gleamed with curiosity, those plump lips parting with unspoken anticipation. _

"_Norway and Sweden are both long, slender countries," I explained, a single finger caressing the length of her exposed thigh, tracing the hem of her skirt along her skin. A small sound escaped her, before she realized that perhaps she should protest for the sake of propriety, even if just a little. _

"_Eric!"_

_I would have none of it, and my hands clasped the luscious flesh of her thighs, holding her in place. Her heart thundered in her chest, and hungrily I watched as her nostrils flared, small hands gripping the edges of the leather cushions for dear life. Suddenly she smelled of prey, and something powerful within me urged me to pounce upon her immediately, to take the hot young blood rushing through her veins. _

_But I would get to that. Someday, I knew, and so I bided my time with a self-control of iron. _

"_Be still, lover," I demanded with a smirk, and reluctantly she obeyed, horrified by her own fascination with me, yet unable to resist, at least at that moment. "You asked for a geography lesson, and I will deliver."_

_Suddenly light as feathers, my long fingers smoothed down the length of her thighs to rest at her knees, wrenching a surprised gasp from her throat. But she fought no more, tense as a racehorse awaiting the gunshot, a nervous little filly so full of delicious fire. "Let us say this is Norway," I explained, squeezing her right thigh, my left, as though I were looking upon the map. "And this is Sweden." Sweden I punctuated with a swirling caress upon her left, tracing the contours of her knee. _

_Eyes rolled up to meet hers, it was with a smoldering stare that I leaned down to caress her sweet skin with aching lips. "Here is Stockholm," I proclaimed, planting a kiss upon the outside edge of her left knee. _

"_Eric, dear God.. ." _

_I smiled to myself, triumphant, but would not be distracted. "And Oslo." _

_A kiss for her right knee, nearly in the same place. _

"_Eric," she sighed again, sliding fingers into my hair. With a light grasp she attempted to pull me from her thighs, but I would have nothing of it. "This isn't.. ."_

"_Shh. This is.. .this is _**perfect**_**,**__" I assured her, planting more slow kisses along the outsides of her legs. "Bergen. Gavle. Trondheim. Ornskoldsvik." The names of lands I once knew rolled from my tongue, a rumble from deep in my chest that traveled across her skin. "Mmm." I approved of our geography lesson, greatly. _

"_And let us not forget the Gulf of Bothnia," I breathed against her skin, licking my lips as my fingertips traveled up the outside of Sookie's left thigh. They climbed higher and higher, until they disappeared beneath her hem. Our eyes locked as my touch wandered farther and farther north, her grip only slightly tightening in my hair, but no longer as a means of restraint. At the sound of desire that escaped her, as my fingers brushed the lace trimmings of what I had no doubt were a delicious pair of boy shorts, a growl escaped me. It took everything, _**everything**___I had, not to throw her down onto the couch, not to rip her underwear away and pillage the common border of our respective map. _

"_I think this _**might**_ be Finland," I declared, slipping a finger beneath the lacy strap at her hip. "But its hard to tell, under the darkness of the Polar Night." Her flesh was warm and pulsing and so alive, so damn _**vibrant**_**. **__With a groan I cupped the curves of that fantastic derriere, pulling her fast against me, her legs on either side. _

"_I think you just ripped Scandinavia in half," she giggled cheekily, that accent of hers thick enough to eat, hands steadying herself upon my shoulders. She pulled an unexpected smile from me, my fangs fully distended, as telling of my desire as the hard bulge now rubbing against her center. _

_With a hesitant fascination Sookie raised fingertips to trace the lines of my face, ever so gently, my brows and down my nose, my lips and the tips of my fangs. "So beautiful," she whispered. "So terrible and beautiful. How is anyone supposed to stand a chance against you?"_

"_You're not," I quickly explained, planting a wet kiss upon her pulse as my fingers traced the joint of her hip and thigh, drawn by the unbelievable warmth, a surprising feat for the artic junction of Norway, Sweden, and Finland, as it were. But quickly she caught my hand, halting my explorations. _

"_No, Eric, that's enough," she protested._

"_It's never enough." I staged a protest of my own, but she would have nothing of it, remaining steadfast in her decree, her fingers intertwined with mine._

"_We can't.. .this has already gone too far. Remember my boyfriend? Bill?"_

"_No," I insisted. "Give me a moment, and you won't either." A single long finger extended to caress her center, and even through the barrier of panties I could tell she'd soaked through the lace with the juices of desire. She cried out, a wanton sound that set my blood to boil. _

"_Stop!" she exclaimed, swatting me with her free hand. "_**Slutta**_!" It was her use of Swedish that truly caught my attention, and with a groan and a smile more likened to a baring of teeth I complied to her wish. _

"_Where did you learn that?"_

"_Pam. She thought it might be a useful word with you."_

_I laughed, a roaring chuckle that caused the little telepath to jump in her seat. Taking advantage of her start, I scooped her up, positioning her to lie on top of me, my long body spread out upon the couch, feet hanging off the end. She seemed somewhat content with the position, nuzzling into the space between my pectorals that seemed sculpted to fit her head just perfectly. In fact her every curve and every hollow matched my own uncannily, except perhaps a certain apparent bulge that strained between our bodies. But there was a place that would fit too, just wonderfully. Some day she would see. She moved against my erection, ever so slightly, experimenting and consequently, causing me to groan. "That could be inside you at this very moment, lover," I whispered, fingers sliding through her flaxen hair. "Pleasuring you, making us one."_

_Though I expected her to balk, Sookie merely propped her chin upon her hands, sizing me up with playful blue eyes. She ground her hips into me, just a little bit, just enough to tease. "I can already sense some of your emotions through our little bond, Eric Northman. That's more than enough _**unity**_ for me at the moment."_

"_You crave more already. As I do. Someday, Sookie Stackhouse, you will be mine."_

_The telepath went still above me. As still as the living can, for even in stasis they will breathe, will thrum with life. We lay there for minutes, perhaps even an hour, before I realized something besides sweat dampened the fabric of my black t-shirt. "Why are you crying, Sookie?" I asked, congratulating myself on a gentle delivery, caressing her hair ever so lightly. These humans are so fragile, with their emotions leaking everywhere. And yet there was an unfamiliar pang, deep in my chest, a sensation so alien I barely recognized it. Worry, worry for her, for if I had hurt her in some way without knowing. _

"_I'm not sure," she answered, and I sensed the truth in her words. "I think that sometimes you just overwhelm me a little."_

_Usually I would have taken the leap, acted upon the hundreds of possible innuendos.. .but not that time. For there was something fragile in her tone I knew not what to make of. Something unpredictable._

"_How do you mean?"_

_Sookie allowed herself a sniff, wiping tears from a cheek with careless fingers. "Doesn't it seem ridiculous to you some nights? You, a thousand year old vampire. You, who could do anything, absolutely _**anything**_**, **__anywhere, with anyone. You are here in the office of a vampire bar with me, a country bumpkin telepath, crazy Sookie.. ."_

"_I do not understand why you find this ridiculous," I interrupted, gesturing to our current state of co-ed reclining on the couch. "Because I find it delicious. And do not call yourself crazy, Sookie. You are a jewel. A prize worth millions of those pathetic blood bags out there." I waved towards the source of the pounding rhythm through the wall, the unseen throng of milling humans, sweating and drinking and hunting in their pathetic lonely way, and they were undoubtedly disappointed humans, for the star of the night's show was absent from his throne. _

"_And don't you get tired of sitting on your throne in front of them, like a museum display? Don't you get tired of them gawking at you?"_

_My expression darkened, but Sookie did not back down. Made no semblance of the gesture of groveling, the usual reaction when any sort of storm cloud began to darken my gaze. "And just what is it you think I _**should**_ be doing?"_

_Sookie lowered her head then, once again resting in that hollow in my chest, albeit damp now. "I don't know," she sighed. "I guess it's a common affliction, whether you're 25 or 1000. None of us quite know what to do with ourselves, do we?"_

_Quite the contrary. I knew what I wanted to do with _**her**_, at least. _

"_Are you not content with your life, Sookie?"_

_She gave a small laugh, a quiet, secret sound, so unlike her usual buoyant vivacity. "I don't know," she whispered, pushing to sit up, her thighs straddling my hips. I took it as a most definite __**yes**__, yet before I could ask what _**she**_ wanted out of life, she cut me short. "I have to go home, Eric. Bill will be worried about me."_

_I sneered at the mere mention of that vampire's name. I did not care for him, and I made no secret of it. "You will leave him soon, Sookie. It is inevitable."_

"_Is it?" _

_Sookie stood from her seat, much to my dismay, and straightened her dress best she could. It was as she hovered at the door that I called, "Lover, just _**what**_ perked your interest in Scandinavian geography?"_

_Leaning against the doorway, Sookie paid me a Mona Lisa smile, and there was a sadness about her I did not quite understand. "You don't want to know," she decided, and blowing me a kiss, she disappeared down the hall. _

**IIIIIII**

"Eric, did you know I can tell when you are thinking of her?" asked Pam, poking me in the back. "You get this look on your face, as though you are about to murder something. Let it go, enjoy someone tonight. There is at least another month before she comes home."

"You are so sure she will come home?"

"You are not?"

Lip curled with disgust, I sat back in my throne. Daydreaming of the last night I beheld Sookie Stackhouse, held her close, gave her a geography lesson upon her milky thighs-recalling this memory had become a pastime of mine, as of late. A lesson she took to heart, apparently. Particularly the northern most regions.

"If she doesn't come home of her own means, I will drag her," I growled.

"So much effort, so much anger, for the little blood bag. And how did she repay you?"

"Enough, Pam."

My child snapped her mouth shut, well accustomed with that particular tone of mine. A tone that promised bodily harm at the slightest provocation. A growing audience of fangbangers had gathered, fascinated by the altercation between two of the bar's star vampires. I felt as a creature behind bars at the zoo, just as Sookie had suggested, two months ago.

With a snarl I stood, stalking to my office. I could not take their dead eyes any longer, their slack-jawed curiosity. _Sookie, Sookie. Do you know what you've done to me?_

Discontent roiled in the marrow of my bones. A thousand years of life indeed, and no idea what to do with it. Once, I had been happy with the bar. With an easy meal and an easy fuck every night I wanted one. The money was good too.

Lately though, it didn't quite seem like enough.

Suddenly I found myself in that abhorable state: waiting. Waiting for something to change, something to happen, something to push me into action.

Why did I have a feeling about that special _something_?

Why did I have a feeling I was waiting for Sookie to come home?

_Damn you, Sookie Stackhouse. Before you, I'd at least been content._


	2. Tall Blond Stranger

**A/N: Thank you all for the interest and reviews, you're the best!**

**Chapter 1**

Four months.

Sookie had not set foot over her threshold in four months. It was the longest she'd ever been away from home. The downright _**farthest**_she'd ever ventured from Bontemps--possibly the farthest any Stackhouse had ventured in generations, since coming over on the boat.

Resting her shoulder bag upon the threshold, she flipped the light switch for the foyer, illuminating the entryway of her family home.

_**Well, at least they didn't shut the electric off.**_

That meant Sam had proven true to his word, and paid what little bills came her way in her absence. He'd been so surprised at her request, but like a true friend came through, like he always did.

Had she really fled the house four months ago, a scared and bruised young woman with nothing but a small duffel full of clothes and a toothbrush, and a wad of cash to give Sam for the bills? And just who was returning, she wondered at herself. She was still Sookie the telepath, sweet and kind and strong. And she was still scared. But oh the things she'd learned. The places she'd been.

It all started with a chance meeting at Merlotte's. An unlikely patron seated in her section. She'd known immediately that he wasn't from around there, because, well, she knew pretty much _**everyone**__. _Everyone in the bar had stared at him, with unabashed southern curiosity. Or maybe it was his bright blue eyes, his blond hair, and impossibly long legs--so much like a certain Viking she happened to know. Yes, those were nice, but those were not the attributes that first caught her attention.

What truly piqued her interest in the stranger was the fact that as she approached with cheerful smile locked in, she found she couldn't read his mind. The fact caused her to hesitate a moment, before recovering from her stumble, smiling once more. "Hi, I'm Sookie, and I'll be your server tonight."

He paid her a blinding smile that went all the way to his eyes. That made her pause too, but for a different reason. As he opened his mouth to speak she realized he also had an accent. Something Germanic maybe? She couldn't place it. Her experience in such matters ran to Southern English, Cajun, Spanish and a little Creole. Sookie suddenly felt very self conscious about her lack of experience in the world.

As he ordered a coffee with cream Sookie attempted to probe his mind, suddenly so very curious whathe was. There were no thoughts available to her, but his mind was not the cold blank slate of a vampire's presence. There was the warmth of the living, yes, a _great_ warmth to him, and buzzing activity, but she couldn't make out anything specific. As though he could sense her reaching out to him, the man smiled gently, studying her in kind with intelligent blue eyes.

"I'll have your coffee right out!" Sookie suddenly exclaimed, hurrying away with her wide guarded smile. The one that had earned her the nickname _Crazy Sookie_. Throughout his meal and three cups of coffee Sookie repeated her attempts at infiltration. It was upon retreating from the last fill-up that she nearly jumped into the air, his hand clasping hers lightly. She glanced down at his long fingers wrapped around hers with wide blue eyes, but all protests died on her lips as a wave of calm washed over her. Did he do that to her? Or was it merely the earnest expression upon his handsome face. Maybe it was the glasses that were disarming, square silver frames that gave him a disarming and bookish appearance. "Perhaps we could talk a little? It could be easier for you, to find your answers."

Sookie nodded, feeling as though she'd been caught red-handed, trying to read his mind. "I have a break coming up.. .can you wait five minutes?"

"I can."

She scurried away, checking on her tables one last time before sliding into the booth in front of the intriguing stranger. Once seated she still found herself fidgetting, smoothing back her hair, checking her ponytail, and twirling the ends around her fingers. "So…"

The stranger laughed, a deep good natured rumble from deep in his chest. "You are always this nervous?"

"Not exactly." Sookie leaned in over the table, asking in a low voice, "_What __**are**__ you?"_

With that enchanting smile Sookie was becoming to like quite a bit, the stranger leaned in as well, whispering conspiratorially, "_I am a telepath, like you_." He leaned back in the booth, straightening broad shoulders once more. She felt certain he would be nearly as tall as Eric, once he stood. "But you may call me Henrik."

Sookie narrowed her eyes as she studied him. "I'm guessing you're a long way from home, Henrik. What are you doing here?"

"I was on rotation at a hospital in New Orleans, helping with the hurricane victims. A sort of.. .doctor exchange program. But I am going home soon."

"And where is home?"

"Stockholm."

Stockholm. She knew it was in northern Europe, but suddenly she feared she would appear unforgivably ignorant if she asked which country. So she nodded. "Bontemps is a long way from New Orleans. Something tells me you're not here for hurricane victims."

"No," he openly admitted. "I heard there was a powerful telepath here in this town. I think I have found her."

"Who did you hear that from?" asked Sookie suspiciously, raising eyebrows high. People knowing of her ability, her handicap, in Bontemps was one thing. This was her town, and a small one at that. But word getting out elsewhere? Perhaps not such a good thing. "I'm not that powerful," she added quietly, humbly.

"A man in passing in the hospital. He did not speak of it, but I caught the image of you, the impression, from his mind. I must say though, you are much more lovely in person."

Even as her cheeks burned at his intent gaze, even if ever so slightly, Sookie asked further, "And what do you want with me?"

"I want to study you," he admitted unabashedly, causing even more heat to rush to her ears. The doctor laughed, and continued with his explanation. "Back home, I am involved in a series of studies with another doctor. He's brilliant, a wonderful man. We are curious of the implications of telepathy, the origins, the patterns of brain activity. We have a lovely facility with the university, and quite a large gathering of subjects who come and go as they please. It has been a tremendous success, giving many a chance to learn about their ability, and meet others who are like them."

"Are there many of us out there?"

"More than you might think."

Sookie sat quietly for a moment, and couldn't help but feel odd at the sensation of this live and otherwise human man before her, projecting almost no thoughts her way. "How do you do that? Your shields are so strong, I can't get anything from you."

"I have had a few more years of practice, I imagine. Yours are not bad. But I could teach you to be better."

"Is it difficult, being a doctor with this ability?"

"It is very useful, actually. Have you ever watched the show _House_?" Furrowing her brow, Sookie shook her head no. "There is a saying he has, that doctor. _Everybody lies. _It is true, and in the medical field, quite a pain. I used to work in an emergency room. Being able to look into someone's head and glean important facts they are usually too embarrassed to impart is a lifesaving tool at times."

"You like to help people, don't you?"

"I do."

"Do I look like I need help so badly?"

Henrik shrugged, smiling slightly. "I do not know you well enough to say. But the invitation to join us is open--its up to you, of course." Both the doctor and Sookie noticed Arlene and Sam beginning to throw looks Sookie's way, a clear signal she'd gone over her 15 minute and the natives were getting restless. "I would be happy to tell you more about the study tomorrow, perhaps?"

Sookie nodded, jumping up from the booth. "Yeah, that would be nice."

She ran off to catch up on her tables, and it wasn't long before Bill came in too. Vampire Bill. A feeling of slight resignation raised from the pit of her stomach at the sight of him, something she couldn't quite identify. She had to go work for Eric later that night, and she knew Bill wouldn't be happy about that. He would pout, beat his chest in a Neanderthal-esque way, ask her not to go alone, offer to take care of her financial needs, whine that she wouldn't let him go with her anymore when she was working.

She'd tried to ignore it, but the more time that passed, the more it seemed inevitable. She was getting tired of Vampire Bill, the way so many lovers are doomed to do. And worse yet, he seemed to sense it in his uncanny way, causing him to grope for a hold even more.

Making Bill jealous was something the Viking found to be highly amusing, a game that was becoming a favorite pastime of his. He was becoming increasingly difficult to fend off, that one. He took more and more liberties every night she worked at Fangtasia as the resident mind-reader. Part of it was her own fault--she liked that vampire too much for her own good. She liked the way he made her laugh, she liked the way he kissed her. She liked his smile, and his hands, and his dependability in a crisis. She even liked his overbearing confidence in a way, though it scared her too. _Its only a matter of time before you yield to me_, he would remind her. Playfully. Jokingly, but not really. He meant every word.

There she was, caught between a rock and a hard place, as usual. Two vampires who both wanted a piece of her, wanted to own her in some way. It rankled her, that sense of entitlement all vampires seemed to adopt over time. The old ones were the worst, and hell, maybe she would be like that too if she'd lived ten times a human's average lifespan.

But she put up with it, and other things, because they were so delightfully _blank _in their minds. They were her best option to not live life alone, it seemed, and no one wants to do that. At least that's what she'd thought, up until about 15 minutes ago, meeting a telepath who could wall her out as effectively as any walking undead.

And so Sookie went about doing something that would, unwittingly, change the course of her life forever. With Bill sitting right at the bar, idly chatting with Sam but keeping a hawk's eye on her all the while, she wrote her address and a time, (emphasis on daylight hours), on a napkin and handed it to Henrick with his bill.

Next order of business? Where the _hell _was Stockholm?

Eric would know.

**Ah, backstory…Not too much Eric/Sookieness this round, but more to come soon…stay tuned, tip your waitress, review your author! :)**


	3. For Your Own Good

**A/N: A big thanks to everyone who's already following this story, and the feedback you've left! You're the best!**

**Chapter 2**

Sookie spent the next several hours tending to the house that had been left to its own devices for the whole summer. She swept, she dusted, she scrubbed and polished, and felt all the happier to see her family home back in shape once more. Feeling deeply satisfied, she curled up on the old couch with a tall glass of sweet tea, and a copy of _The Unbearable Lightness of Being. _

Though she undoubtedly still loved a good mystery or popular romance, her literary horizons had broadened thanks to Henrik. Dear God, what segment of her life _hadn't _been improved in some way by that man? She felt small as ever in the broad scope of the world, yet so much more enlightened, as though small town blinders had been lifted from her eyes. There was so much to _think _about in this life.. .and for once, she felt as though her thoughts were _worth _something. Carried some weight, some _merit. _

Sookie had never been valued for her intelligence. She didn't do terribly well in school, that was for sure. Well how could she, when everyone and their sister's thoughts crept into her mind, distracting her? College had been out of the question--even in Gran could have afforded it, Sookie's mental health couldn't have taken it. Sookie's main merits in the town of Bontemps had lain in her sweetness, her competence as a waitress, and according to the mental projections of most males who set foot in Merlotte's, the best pair of breasts that side of the Mississippi.

Yeah, she was attractive. She got it. Even liked it, of course, but Sookie had always been hungry to be more than just a pretty blond face, that polite girl with the crazy crooked smile. Even Eric and Bill--well, _especially _Bill, had a way of demeaning her, putting her back in her place when she had an excellent idea. The thought of the way Bill would arch his dark eyebrow at her condescendingly when she said something he found particularly naïve caused a violent huff to escape her otherwise silent reflection.

Before Henrik, Sookie never imagined she could be truly valued for her intelligence. But he showed a faith in her no one else ever had, perhaps save Gran. As they traveled he fed her books like candy, dishing out one great title after another, feeding her mind even as he studied it.

He challenged her, discussed with her, debated with her and never shot her view point down. If she was blatantly misinformed about something, he would explain the truth to her so gently, without ego. With the zeal of an educator, the experience of a man of the world. He'd been to so many places for a man of 28, traveled so far. Apparently it was a common thing for European youth, to set off across the world on a "gap year" expedition, before settling down in school. Though in American's defense, America itself was a _huge _country, Sookie knew that only about 20 percent had passports. Luckily she'd gotten hers at Bill's urging, on the possibility of a little romantic getaway. It had proved useful though, in a getaway of a much different kind.

Back at the University, she was even allowed to sit in on classes, anything she wanted. She found history and literature to be her favorites, both studies of human nature, in reality and fiction. With the control Henrik taught her over just the course of a couple months, she could sit comfortably in an auditorium filled with people, and sit in a calm bubble of her own making, concentrating on the professor's pearls of wisdom. When her growing command of the Swedish language failed her, an electronic translator proved to be an incredible thing. Or perhaps her favorite, she would admit with only a little blush, Henrik translating for her quietly, leaning so close that his breath brushed her ear.

With a deep breath Sookie resolved to think of something else, because there were a lot of miles between them. Though there was an open invitation to return to Stockholm any time she wanted, she'd known she could only run for so long, that the time to return home had come. She'd left scared and overwhelmed, and returned with a wealth of new confidence in herself and her abilities, sitting in a cheerful beam of sunlight. Though her initial treatment of the situation maybe smacked of cowardice, she knew her Gran would be proud if she could see her now.

But it was as the sun began to set upon the land, it also began to set upon Sookie's mood, even if just a bit. The slanted shadows of dusk cutting across the living room seemed to loom forebodingly, reminding her of the creatures that would soon walk in the shadows of the moon. Thoughts of two of these such creatures suddenly engulfed her, both of which who she had thought of often, in one way or another.

First, there was her Viking, of whom Henrik's physical similarities Sookie could not escape for the duration of their adventure. Had they stood side by side, they could have been related, brothers even, and Sookie couldn't help but wonder if a DNA test would reveal that a thousand years ago, Henrick's genetics branched from Eric's family tree. Sookie felt sorry for the way she'd left Eric so abruptly, without a word of goodbye, without a promise of return--she did what she had to, she reminded herself, through the acute ache in her chest that ambushed her. Just maybe he would give her the chance to make it up to him? What was a few months to a being who had lived a thousand years?

What indeed.

And then there was the other vampire in her life, Vampire Bill. The memory of their last parting left something less than sweet upon her tongue, bile at the back of her throat. Reluctantly she recalled the last night she'd seen Eric, and what awaited her upon returning home.

She'd come through the door filled with elation, high from her encounter with Eric, still shuddering with the memory of his geography lesson demonstrated so skillfully with his soft lips upon her thighs. His strong fingers on her skin. And why had she cried, while laying so sweetly upon his massive form? Perhaps she sensed, had the slightest premonition, a tiny inkling, that drastic changes were coming her way, and that they would not share anything so sweet between them for a long time to come.

Bolting up the stairs with a laugh and a burst of energy, she'd gone to her bedroom, intent on washing the scent of her slight infidelity with Eric from her skin before Bill inevitably appeared to put her to bed. Like she was a child who needed tucking in. Humming to herself she unzipped her dress, taking a few hair pins out before her vanity. Playfully she made a serious face in the mirror, rising to her full height of five foot five. In a deep voice, her best Viking impression, she repeated the words that had released a flurry of butterflies into her system. Set her heart to race like a herd of galloping horses. "_You are a jewel. A prize worth millions of those pathetic blood bags."_

"Is that what he told you tonight, Sookie?"

Sookie had jumped nearly a foot in the air at the unexpected voice, cold as the grave, foreboding as an axe hanging in the air above her. She turned to see Bill sitting in the chair in the corner, lurking, completely swathed in deep shadow. No wonder she'd missed him.

Sookie gulped a few times, a fish out of water, searching for a response. She didn't think this moment would come so soon, but she suddenly intuited that the remainder of this evening could go nothing but badly. "It's nice to be appreciated," she finally defended.

"Are you implying I do not appreciate you?"

There was a dangerous note in Bill's tone that suddenly set Sookie's hair on end.

It would be ok, she told herself. Bill would never hurt you.

Right?

"No. Just merely pointing out that…others do as well."

"By others you mean Eric."

Bill suddenly appeared before Sookie, moving far too swift for her mortal eyes to follow. She jumped, bumping against the dresser behind her, fingers digging into the painted wood as Bill leaned in to her.

She was trapped, and regrettably she knew it.

"You _reek_ of him," he growled.

"He grabbed me. You know how he is." Sookie tried to evade Bill, attempting to slide past him, but the incensed vampire would have none of it, gripping her arm hard enough to bruise.

"Did he?" Bill obviously did not believe her. "It doesn't seem that you minded."

"Bill, you're hurting me." A thread of fear entered Sookie's tone, and it did not deter the vampire, only seemed to excite him more. She stood suddenly reminded that her boyfriend decidedly was _not _human, and had _not_ been for a very long time. He was a predator, nature's ultimate predator, according to some. At that moment, according to her.

"I can see there's a lesson you need to learn." Gripping the strap of her dress, Bill tore it down, ripping the pretty fabric and leaving her exposed to the room. She screamed and struggled, but her strength was no match for his. His hips ground into hers, pushing her into the vanity. There would be bruises, many bruises. If she lived to tell the tale.

"Bill Compton, you will let go of me right now! Or else I will revoke--"

Before she could get the words out, the magic words that would bar the vampire access to her home, Bill violently pinched her jaw, so that no more words could escape, only strangled noises.

"You will do no such thing. You are _mine_, Sookie Stackhouse, and after tonight you'll remember it!" He shredded her dress, tearing it from her, and tossed her to the bed. He swallowed her screams with violent kisses, grunting, "_Mine" _as he squeezed her breast roughly.

"No!" Bill clamped a hand over Sookie's mouth, his weight pressing her down into the bed. Once this had been an act she relished in, one she would wait so impatiently for, willing the sun so she could go to her vampire lover. Up until then she'd only barely glimpsed at the jealous side of Bill Compton, but not even in nightmares could she have imagined such violent love between them. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as he pushed inside her.

"So wet, Sookie," Bill growled, sinking fangs into her breast. "Is it because you like this? Or because of Eric? Or maybe that other, the man at Merlotte's you seemed so taken with?"

Bill did not give her a chance to answer, flipping her onto her stomach, and taking her that way, as though they were animals. "Neither of them would ever treat me this way," Sookie sobbed into the mattress.

"Eric would do worse than this at the slightest whim. You are just a plaything to him. He doesn't love you like I do."

_This isn't love_. Sookie found herself distancing herself from the situation, as though she could watch disinterestedly from the corner. It wasn't happening to her. Her first love, the man who took her virginity, who had saved her life, wasn't raping her in a fit of jealousy on a balmy spring night.

She suddenly found herself flipped once more, and her eyes widened at the sight of a knife in Bill's hands. She shrieked as he drew it across his chest, leaving a deep cut that gushed cold, dark blood. "You will always be mine," growled Bill, gripping her behind her neck, forcing her mouth to the wound. She tried to resist but inevitably a large amount of blood flowed into her mouth, slipped down her throat, binding she and Bill closer than she ever wanted.

Close to dawn Bill left Sookie in a pile of sheet, curled in on herself. "We'll talk tomorrow," he assured her, trying to be gentle, but she would never see him the same again. "You'll see this is for the best."

Sookie paid him no acknowledgement, feeling trapped in a catatonic state while he still stood near. A sob of relief escaped her when she felt him slip out the door, and it wasn't long before she slipped into a dead slumber.

She'd awoken to bright sunlight coming through the windows. It illuminated the blood upon the bedspread, dried and the color of rust. It was all over her, Bill's blood. Covered the lower half of her face. She realized between her thighs was sticky as well, with seed and blood of her own. Immediately, Sookie stumbled into the bathroom, and threw up.

When Henrick arrived at noon the only evidence that remained of Bill's violence was a shadow in Sookie's eyes, a distinct tension between her shoulder blades. With a doctor's eye, he could not only see the bruises, but sense something more than physical was wrong, that something had happened. Sookie came to explain her vampire problem, the difficulties with going away, and their fascination with her gift.

Bill would find her, if she left. He would bring her back.

Henrick sat quietly upon the porch swing with Sookie, long legs gently rocking them back and forth. When finally he spoke Sookie found his accented voice, soft and _human_, to be a great comfort. "There could be a way around your vampire difficulty, Sookie. It is just the right time of year." And he hatched out a possible plan, and she listened with an open mind. It seemed maybe a little far fetched, but a sudden and aching need burned in Sookie's breast to get away. She dreaded the next sunset, did not want to talk to Bill. Didn't want to see him, maybe not ever again.

She could have gone to Eric. She could have ratted on Bill, showed Eric the bruises. There were plenty to spare. It might even enrage the Viking enough to kill Bill, at the very least extend his protection over her. It would get Eric into trouble, but he'd dodged such trouble before, with Longshadow.

But there would be other implications too. Undoubtedly, Eric would assume that he'd won. That he owned her. It was the vampire way, it seemed.

Sookie had sudden issue with _any _inkling of ownership.

"How soon can we leave?" she asked, staring off into the trees draped with Spanish moss.

"Today," answered Henrik, completely grasping the desperation of the situation, even that he could be putting himself in danger, getting involved with this girl who vampires held so dear, so very _tasty_. But bravely he waved it aside, determined to help this woman he'd only just met. He saw a bit of himself in her. A young and frightened telepath, ostracized, unsure, completely unbeknownst of her own potential, her value as a human being. Where would he be that day, had he not met Dr. Ibsen, who lent such a helping hand, showed him that he wasn't a freak, taught him to use and control his ability? It was time he passed it forward. And so it was with an undaunted resolve, Henrik promised, "We will leave today."

**A/N: Dun dun dun… swept away by a Swedish doctor. Well Eric certainly wont be like that! Where is he, anyway? I hear reviews make him appear faster. Yes, I think that's how it works.. . ;) **


	4. An Injustice Commited

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: I'm not sure if I'm taking liberties here, but for the sake of story line, sookie's bond to both eric and bill wore off after 2-3 months. Distance and all…yes, well. Carry on. **

It was with apprehension that Sookie pulled up the drive of her house. She'd just come from Merlotte's, and had a hearty welcome back too. At first she'd been nervous, walking up the steps to the tavern, wondering what kind of reception she would receive. And then for once she realized she didn't have to know what everyone thought, if she didn't want to. Her ability to shield had increased ten fold--as long as she kept her cool, she would be just like a normal girl, oblivious to the crap knocking around the mostly empty skulls of the patrons.

It was with a sudden burst of energy and a wide Sookie smile that she burst through the doors, and immediately threw her arms around the neck of a very surprised but very happy Sam. "Cher, you're back! My God you look good, girl. Wherever you been, their air musta agreed with you!"

Sookie had stayed for a few hours, jawing with everyone without exactly revealing where she'd been, (just in case she needed to go back), even receiving a big hug from her good for nothing brother. She talked to Sam about getting back on the schedule again, and before she knew it, it was midnight. "Sam, I might turn into a pumpkin if I don't get home soon," she said, laying on a little extra to her accent just for the pure pleasure of it. For the past four months she'd been wrapping her tongue around near alien languages, and though it had been an amazing experience, there was nothing like the comforts of home.

"You be ok going on by yourself, Sookie? I'll take you home if you want," Sam offered.

Sookie knew the farm house in the dark would be terrifying, but she also knew she couldn't allow her incident with Bill to run her life, to ruin her forever. She wanted to conquer her fear, and to her that meant, perhaps foolhardily, that she had to go it alone.

"I'll be fine, Sam," Sookie assured him, and after kissing him on the cheek, headed home.

And in her driveway she sat, staring at the front door. Fifteen feet of shadows, and she'd be home free, through the threshold. All she had to do was make it into her sanctuary, where _she_ was queen. Where she dictated who could come and go, by some form of magic that affected vampires she couldn't understand.

Nervously she fingered the silver chain about her neck, and the charm that dangled at the end. It was an intricate silver rendition of the Mjölnir, Thor's hammer, a souvenir from her travels and a gift from Henrik.

_You'll be fine, Sook_, she assured herself, gripping the door of the car. Would she? She didn't give herself any further opportunity to mull it over, spilling out the car and making a dash for her front door. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she ran, and it was the fastest she'd ever worked the front lock. She could hardly believe it when she made it inside without a scratch, and leaned against the closed front door, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly.

Suddenly in a fine mood, she went to set her purse and keys on the kitchen table, and meandered into the living room to maybe get in a few more pages of _Unbearable _in before bed.

"You have been a _very _naughty girl, Sookie."

That cold voice made Sookie's blood turn to ice, and she turned slowly to find Bill leaning against the wall. Immediately she flipped a switch, for all the good it would do.

"Bill Compton, I revoke--"

It came from the left, faster than she could possibly react, just a slap across the cheek, but it sent her reeling against the mantle and into a ball on the floor. Bill quickly straddled her, a hand clamped over her mouth. She began to bite down viciously, but then thought better of it, thinking perhaps it wouldn't be the best idea to spill more of his blood into her mouth. The bond had worn off, allowing her to travel rather extensively their last month without either of her vampires knowing her location by a metaphysical connection alone. She didn't want to instate it again.

Acknowledging her logic with the smile the snake pays the mouse, Bill nodded. "You will take my blood again, Sookie. You were clever, but you can't run forever. You are destined to be mine."

_I cannot fail the queen again, or she will have my head._

With surprise and alarm Sookie realized that she'd caught some of Bill's thoughts, a rare occurrence, but not unprecedented. Still, it was her most coveted of accidental talents; no one but her knew she could sometimes read vampires. No one. The vampires would kill her immediately if they knew.

He bit into his wrist savagely, blood gushing from his arm.

If she could read his thoughts, Sookie wondered if she could influence him at all, the way she could humans. Her abilities had only increased since they parted ways, it was worth a try. And so she concentrated on sending a burning sensation down his arm, envisioning a sunbeam coming through the window and burning him. She reached out to the blankness that was his mind to her, and offered this image, pushed it into him, assaulted him with all her might.

Jerking as though he had indeed been burned, Bill recoiled from her. Sookie took the opportunity to grasp the Mjölnir, and jerking it from its chain, proceeded to shove the sterling silver object into Bill's cheek. "I revoke my invitation!" she screamed, and as Bill clawed at his face, dislodging the pendant from his burning skin, the magic that governed vampire law dragged him from the house, as though a giant hand had grasped him by the collar with the intent of throwing him out. The door opened of its own accord, and a sudden howling wind shoved Bill that last yard to land on the porch. The door slammed behind him, and the house went still once more.

"This isn't over, Sookie," Bill hissed from behind the door, obviously in great pain. She picked the little object up from the floor, slipping it into her pocket.

Her knees shook, and her head hurt, but it was with great satisfaction that she muttered, "Fuck off, Bill."

It was with a sense of mild triumph that Sookie awaited the dawn, clutching the Mjölnir. Only when dawn's rosy fingers caressed the inky blue sky did she allow herself to fall asleep.

**IIIIIIIIII**

It seemed Sookie couldn't go a day at home without returning to the natural order of things: I.e.--getting beaten up. She sported a rather impressive bruise upon her chin, and she couldn't help but note the ironic symmetry of the situation, having left the house looking the same way four months ago.

She found herself faced with a dilemma, and a ticklish one at that. She found herself in possession of contraband information, a forbidden fact, and the implications weighed heavily upon her.

_I cannot fail the queen again, or she will have my head._

She wondered if Bill had been tasked from the beginning to bring her under his control, or if it had developed once Sophie-Anne realized their attachment could be advantageous to her. Either way, she knew Bill to be on her list of vampires to avoid at any cost.

And the next question?

Did Eric know?

It was hard to say. Were they both under orders to bring her in? May the best man win, and all that?

Somehow, Sookie doubted it. If Eric was under orders to control Sookie, she knew he could have done it with ease and cold calculation. He wouldn't have hesitated in the least, would have executed a master plan in a matter of a month, maybe less.

No, she suspected she and Eric's relationship involved _special _complication. She suspected it was something like love, and it scared her almost as much.

And the next question, was Eric trustworthy?

Even less certain.

Though he'd always come through for her, hadn't he? Multiple times. But why? _He liked her _suddenly seemed an unlikely answer.

Shit.

She found herself with the exact same problem, only four months delayed. Go to Eric and ask for his help, and inadvertently indenture herself to him, or just run? There was a whole wide world out there, she knew now. She could go anywhere, do anything. Henrik had been curious of the effects of Buddhist meditation on a telepath's mind, if it would help one focus and reach out even farther--they could go to the Himalayas. Live in a monastery, subsist on butter tea and yak's milk.

The thought made her smile, but it didn't feel right this time, and she knew it. Last time it did, last time she felt she'd taken the right course. But this time? Something surely needed to be resolved. She needed answers.

And her best bet to find those answers seemed to be Eric Northman.

Resigned to her fate, for she had not intended to confront the Viking so soon, Sookie packed a bag and tossed it in the back of her car, prepared to hit the road if things headed south. In full daylight, she dropped into the car, intending to make the drive to Shreveport at the hour which the fanged ones slumbered. It wouldn't do to be waylaid on the way in the dark.

Almost nervously, Sookie puttered around Shreveport, killing time until the fiery orb could fall below the horizon. She shopped, but bought nothing, needing to conserve money for emergency. Eventually she found herself in a café with a cheap cup of coffee, making a go at corralling her distracted mind into finishing her book. She daydreamed, placing herself in the story, imagined herself an expatriate of a war torn land. Not too far from her future, perhaps, if things didn't go well. Then she imagined striding up to Eric in nothing but panties and a bowler hat, and savored the undoubtedly hungry look on his face, even if it only lived in an image in her mind.

She missed him, more than she cared to admit, and the promise of seeing him that night inspired a medley of apprehension and excitement in the pit of her stomach.

It was as she closed _Unbearable_, a deep satisfaction settling over her for having finished it, that she glanced out the window of the diner, and realized that sunset was already well on its way. "Shit," she hissed under her breath, gathering up her things and racing out to her car.

By the time she arrived at Fangtasia, business was already in full swing. Nervously she checked herself, running fingers through her hair one last time, fingering a ruffle in her skirt. The dress was white, boned and form fitting, cut low enough to offer a peak of cleavage. Though short, the skirt was almost innocent in its layers and ruffles, lace trimmings and small seed pearls.

_ Candle in a coal mine indeed. _

The door bouncer was new, and didn't seem to recognize Sookie. All for the better. After presenting ID she was allowed to pass, and the adrenaline hit her as she pushed through the door. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light of the bar, and quite the opposite for the patrons and her attire, for she positively glowed. This went unnoticed by no one, but there was only one whose gaze she cared for.

Eric knew something interesting, at least interesting to the blood bags, had entered the bar, but he could not see through the throng. Annoyed, he turned his attention elsewhere, looking down to his phone. Vampire Bill had sent him three texts requesting a meeting, irritatingly and insistently. He decided to ignore him for a bit longer, just to let him stew. Something indefinable drew his eyes once more to the crowd, the sight before him drew a light gasp only Pam behind him could hear. In his surprise his phone tumbled from his large hand, for there _she _was. Striding towards him like a vision of heaven, an angel in white. Her hips rolled as she walked on her high heels, long tan legs so _very_ visible as her skirt whispered about them.

A yard from the dais she came to a stop, suddenly unsure of herself, of what she was doing there. She dared meet the gaze of the Viking in front of her, and a thrill ran through her at the sight of him, those intense eyes, such a beautiful artic blue. She could read nothing in his expression, there was only the perfection of his features, still as a statue.

Pam seemed intrigued by this unexpected appearance, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. In Swedish she muttered to Eric with a sly smile, "Well, well, your little bird has returned to you. Better clip her wings while you have the chance."

It was much to Eric and Pam's surprise, when Sookie answered in English. "No one is clipping my wings."

Eric's expression still remained inscrutable, as was his tone. "What things you have learned since last we met, Sookie. What else have you got for us?"

The telepath bent down, affording a generous view of her cleavage as she gingerly scooped up Eric's iphone. Cheekily she held it out in offering, and Eric received it with a smirk. But he did not stop there, clasping her small hand in his, pulling her closer. "I think we have some things to discuss in private, don't you?"

She could tell nothing from his tone, whether there was anger or even lust, or worst yet, apathy. With a swallow she nodded, making an attempt to pull her hand free. But Eric only switched holds, gripping her arm above the elbow to steer her into his office. His fingers easily wrapped all the way around her upper arm.

Once through the door, its lock turned to the outside world, his hold tightened as he pulled her against him. She crashed against the musculature of his chest like meeting a brick wall, and one hand immediately rose to push against him. In futility, it seemed. In his fury his eyes blazed sapphire, his skin glowed luminescent marble. Even as he frightened her, Sookie still couldn't help but think he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever laid eyes on.

It didn't seem fair in the least.

"How dare you run away from me?" he seethed, cupping the side of her face in his large hand. Sookie squirmed against him, but to no avail. "Did you have fun playing in the Midnight Sun, where no vampires could follow you? Clever girl." In complete contrast to his roiling temper, his lips crashed over hers, and for a moment Sookie melted under the fiery passion of his kiss.

But it was as he nicked her lip with a distended fang, betraying his desire even further, that Sookie came back to reality. She jerked away, attempting to land a slap upon his jaw, but Eric easily caught her hand in his, engulfing it within his own. "Don't flatter yourself, I wasn't running from you," she spat. "And at any rate, Eric Northman, you do not own me in any capacity."

Eric went still, intrigued by her first statement, ignoring the second. In his eyes he had owned her in part, until she waited out his bond to her in the inaccessibility of the Midnight Sun. He'd known she dwelled in the northern most reaches of Norway, within the Artic circle where the sun would not set, and seethed in the fact that he could not reach her. Slowly the bond faded, until he could feel her no more, and damned if he hadn't felt as though a small part of him died at her absence within him. After three months he could no longer sense her elation in discovering a foreign land, and countless other experiences he could not know.

Though he could sense her emotions, he knew not what exact activities spurred them. At times his imagination drove him wild with jealousy, knowing her to be with that handsome doctor, that damned Henrik Jurgensen. How often had he felt intense happiness from her, complete satisfaction, and wondered if another man's hands glided over her body, fulfilled her in ways she'd never allowed him.

Yes, he'd been able to find out about Jurgensen at least, having questioned the shifter, obtaining credit card information from his bill at Merlotte's, and tracing him from there. He knew of the telepath program at the University, and his mentor, Dr. Ibsen.

If Sookie was not running from him, that left one other vampire with which she was closely acquainted. Suddenly very suspicious of their former Civil War soldier, Eric ran fingers light as a feather over the bruise upon Sookie's chin. "Who hit you, Sookie?" he demanded darkly. It sounded of death for whoever had dared, and for once she felt heartened by that lethal potential in Eric.

"That's an interesting story, actually."

"I imagine you are just _full _of interesting stories, lover. I would like to hear them." Cooling down, he went to sit on the couch, long arms spread out along the back of it, nearly touching each end. Though he nodded for her to take a seat beside him, she wasn't ready just yet to be so close. She didn't exactly think clearly, when the Viking was near.

Sookie switched gears, not quite ready to discuss the origins of her bruise directly.

"Tell me, Eric. What do you know of the Queen's intentions for me?" she asked, causing Eric's blond eyebrows to arch high upon his noble brow.

The brow in question also furrowed, as he further considered her query. "I was not aware the Queen knew about you at all, little one, much less an agenda for you. Is there something political happening in my area I am ignorant of?" Sookie bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself, if she ever should have come there. What if he was lying? What if indeed. Eric grew impatient at her silence, further probing, "Is _that_ why you ran away where no vampire could follow you for three months? Taking advantage of the Midnight Sun was a brilliant idea, though I do not appreciate being abandoned."

_It was Henrik's idea_, Sookie thought, though she decided she would decline to mention the doctor to Eric for now. He would hear the tenderness in her voice, the admiration, and the Viking wouldn't like it in the least. "I regret that it must have seemed that way, to you," she finally answered. "But I felt I had no choice at the time. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

The Viking stiffened at the very idea this little woman could hurt him, though perhaps the real reason it rankled was because such a pronouncement brushed too close to the truth for his liking. "I was so certain you were running from _me_. So tell me Sookie, if it not the case, then from who did you flee?"

Sookie groaned, finding herself still reluctant to speak of Bill. There was a heaviness in her heart; she wanted to put it all behind her, pretend it didn't happen. Not think of it ever again. She knew it was unrealistic, but still, she put it off.

"I was offered an opportunity I couldn't refuse."

"A jaunt in the Artic?"

A small smile curled Sookie's full lips. "That's the tip of the _iceberg_, I guess." Her smile widened. "I got to see polar bears."

Eric's expression visibly darkened once more, eyes narrowing as they blazed blue fire. "We both know you didn't run away to see _polar bears_, Sookie. I would imagine spending time with a Dr. Henrik Jurgensen had more to do with it?"

Panic spread across Sookie's features. "How did you…"

"It's amazing how easy it is to find people in this modern age, isn't it? Paired with the bond, it wasn't difficult. I still have a mind to eat him, for taking you away from me."

"You will not harm a hair on his head, Eric Northman! How dare you!" she fumed, clenching her fists, but Eric waved her rage away like smoke.

"Save your anger. You disappeared without a word, and I needed to know you were alright. Through the bond I felt the most horrible panic from you, but it was close to dawn and I could do nothing. When I went to your home the next night, you were gone."

In a panic, Sookie demanded, "Did you tell Bill where I was? Did he know the whole time?" She and Henrik had remained in the 24 hours of sunlight in the Artic circle for three months, but once she sensed the bond fade, she thought it would be safe to travel. They'd gone all over Europe by train, flaunting their freedom in the darkness, when possibly Bill could have found them all the while?

However, by the expression upon Eric's face, Sookie suddenly knew Eric did no such thing, keeping the information all to himself. "What has he done to you, Sookie, that you are suddenly so afraid of him? Was it he who placed that nasty bruise upon your chin?"

Sookie went quiet, wrapping her arms around her, as though the temperature had dropped twenty degrees in the office. Eric watched her draw into herself, and suddenly knew something was rotten in his area, something he had not known about for quite some time. But still she didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to try and put the horrible thing Bill had done to her into words.

"Sookie, come here," said the Viking softly, holding out his large hand in invitation. She rolled her blue eyes to him, and he could see the tears building there. "I can't help you, if I don't know what happened."

Resigned, Sookie went to stand before the Sheriff. She paused at his knees, as a skydiver pauses at the door. Did she want to jump? Would the chute open? Much to Eric's surprise, she took the plunge.

"I don't want to talk about it," she asserted, climbing into his lap in a smooth motion that left him speechless. She straddled his torso, hands splayed upon the muscular swell of his pectorals. Taken aback as he was, Eric did not miss a beat, and Sookie gasped as his long hands slid to rest at her waist.

"You must--"

Sookie shushed the vampire, a thumb tracing over his lower lip. He closed his eyes as her fingers slid into his hair. "Open your mind to me, Eric, and I'll show you more than I could possibly tell."

There was a multitude of things Sookie had learned, spending time with Henrik and others like her. One of them was the ability to share thoughts, images, sequences of events through a mental connection. It worked with humans, but would it with a vampire? She would find out.

Eric relished in holding her close, fought not to press his lips on hers once more. But he would spook her, he knew, and so he waited for whatever it was she had in mind. As she breathed against his neck his hands convulsed upon her waist, and it was as he pulled her closer that the beginnings of images began flashing in his mind, with a strong accompaniment of emotion.

There they were, in his office, on this very couch. As she left he felt her apprehension, uncertainty, and even a little sorrow. The drive home, and the carefree way she danced through the front door, floating up the stairs on a cloud. And then there was Bill, and her elation died, quickly shifted to fear as he approached her, and terror as he took her. He watched her awake with blood between her thighs before she broke the mental connection, trembling in his arms, and collapsed against him.

Eric pulled her closer, whispering soothing words and stroking her hair, even as a murderous rage filled him for Bill's audacity, hubris, and cruelty. Once, the gentle Swedish would have merely registered as pretty words, but it had become an even greater comfort for her. "He'll never touch you again," Eric assured her.

And to his heartened delight, she answered in the same language, slowly but sure, "I know. I will kill him myself if he tries."

"Why did you not come to me before?"

"Because I wanted to go to Norway," she answered cheekily, smiling against Eric's neck. She inhaled deeply, taking in his masculine scent, a mixture of expensive cologne and his own delicious flavors.

"You have only put off the inevitable."

Sookie shrugged. "Before this, I'd barely even been out of the state, Eric. And now, I can speak to you in Swedish. I can say hello and thank you in six other languages. I've been to the top of the Eifel tower, and seen the Coliseum, and sunbathed on Mediteranean shores.."

"I did not know you wanted such things."

Sookie found that she fit perfectly beneath Eric's chin, if she curled a certain way. "Neither did I. But I loved every minute. I can't wait to go back."

"Are you sure it wasn't just the company?" Eric growled, the thought of her with another man eliciting dark thoughts to bloom in his brain.

Sookie sat back, and could not mistake the dangerous glint in the vampire's eyes. But she did not shrink away, squaring her shoulders, holding her chin high. She'd had enough of men bristling over notions of perceived ownership of her person. "If you're going to be a caveman, I will leave right now, and handle this myself."

Eric's long arms had different plans, wrapping around her small body in an effective trap. "Tell me of this business with the queen, Sookie. What makes you suspect she is interested in you in some way?"

Sookie paused, still not sure it would be wise to reveal even to Eric that she could occasionally read vampire minds. "Bill muttered something in his fit, last night," she smoothly lied. "Something about the queen having his head, if he failed her again. As he was trying to dump a quart of his blood down my throat."

"Did you swallow any?" asked Eric, concerned.

"No. I shoved a silver Mjölnir necklace in his face instead." She gave a short, abrupt cough of laughter, because it was better than crying. "He didn't seem to care for that too much."

They sat in relative silence for a few minutes, Eric running his fingers through her hair. How he had missed those silky tresses, a gold to rival his own.

"You do realize you cannot go home tonight, do you not?" he eventually broke the silence.

"Where will I go?"

"Home with me," decided Eric with the smile of the cat who ate the canary. At long last, he would have her right where he wanted her, with reason on his side. He could think of nowhere more secure to take her.

"Eric…" Sookie couldn't help but instinctually feel weary, all too aware of Eric's capacity to scheme with the intent to seduce her, even in times of duress and danger.

"You will need to lay low for a few days, Sookie, and there is no securer place than my lair. You will be completely safe, and completely comfortable, I assure you, while I attempt to sort this mess out."

"What exactly do you mean, _sort it out_?"

"Tearing Bill to tiny pieces with my bare hands comes to mind," growled Eric.

A long sigh escaped Sookie, and she buried her face in Eric's neck even further, taking refuge in his skin. It didn't sound like a terrible idea, really. "Wouldn't you get in trouble for that?"

"For avenging an injustice committed against my bonded? Not likely."

Sookie pushed back, hands resting upon Eric's chest. With a sudden fire in her eyes she protested, "I am not your bonded, Eric! You tricked me into drinking some of your blood once, and now the effects have faded. I don't belong to anyone now, and I'm going to keep it that way!"

Eric growled in response, his grip tightening upon her hips. "When vampires are fighting over you, Sookie, you must belong to someone! Don't you understand that? You stand no chance alone."

"No!" She fought to free herself once more. It was the model of her relationship with the vampire, tender moments coupled with anger and struggle.

Suddenly Eric's voice calmed, but she knew it to merely be the eye of the storm. He cupped her head in his large hands, eyes boring into hers. "Why did you come to me, if not to ally yourself with me?"

"Because I was stupid enough to think you just might care about me enough to help me, without demanding I sign my life away to you!"

Something inside the vampire clenched, and he had not quite realized the extent of which he wanted Sookie, longed for her to be his, to _want _to be his, up until that moment. A moment he'd thought he had her once and for all, only to find she had something entirely different in mind. And at the same time, he also knew that if he did not step lightly in the next few seconds, he would lose her, more thoroughly than he ever had before. In a way that she would never, ever come back to him. So it was not without some spirit of manipulation, that he threw Sookie for a loop.

"I am sorry."

The telepath froze mid struggle, rolling surprised eyes to the vampire before her. "What did you say?"

"I am sorry. I misjudged. But I will not forsake you because I was blinded by how very much I want you to come to me."

Sookie couldn't have been more surprised had Eric slapped her. No, after last night, she half expected the slap. "What do you mean, Eric?" she asked wearily, expecting a catch, a trap, something unseen waiting to ensnare her. It seemed as though it always worked that way with vampires.

"I mean I will help you through this, Sookie, best I can. You may have to pretend to be mine, but you and I will know it is pretense."

Struck dumb by this unexpected side of Eric, Sookie slid from his grasp to sit beside him, clasping her hands in her lap. She studied her thumbnails for a bit, before asking, "You would do that for me?"

"Yes, my little one. And much more, if you will let me."

With her heart in her throat, Sookie clasped Eric's hand in hers, still wrapping her head around this new side of Eric she'd never seen before. "Well then," she finally spoke. "Looks like we're going to your house."

The vampire flashed a heartbreaking smile, and hooking her chin with one finger, placed the gentlest of kisses upon her lips, causing her eyes to flutter shut. "You will not regret it," he promised, and Sookie hoped he was right.

**A/N: Well, worth the wait? Hope so! Your feedback is much appreciated! :)**


	5. The First Valkyrie

**A/N: And now, for your reading pleasure, a chapter full of Eric/Sookie goodness! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: The First Valkyrie**

Eric handed responsibility for the bar over to Pam for the night, and it was with a knowing smirk that his second watched them slip out the "employees only" backdoor. Sookie followed Eric's corvette into the night, and couldn't help but think what a motley pair they made. Most of the motley being on her end, in her beat up little car. They soon left Shreveport proper, and wound through twenty-five minutes of country roads before pulling down a long drive lined with tall live oaks, Spanish moss hanging down eerily in the moonlight. At the end of the drive awaited an old but beautiful antebellum home, two stories high.

Even stranger, but built in an elegant style to match to the left of the house was a garage. Eric motioned for Sookie to pull in. "It wouldn't do for anyone to see that thing you call a car here."

"Does it embarrass you that much?" asked Sookie, retrieving her overnight bag from the back seat before rewarding her little car with an affectionate pat. It had been a good soldier over the years.

"Someday, you will let me replace that thing with something that is worthy of you," predicted the vampire with a toothsome smile. The wheels immediately began turning in his devious brain; Sookie could practically see the process behind his eyes, even if she couldn't hear it. "Something with style and grace, yet fun. Yes, I have a few ideas of cars that would suit you."

"That's enough of that, Eric. You're not buying me a new car." Though he had been scolded, it was much to his delight when Sookie laced her arm in his, squeezing affectionately as they walked to the front door. With a press of a button on his keychain the garage door slowly jolted closed.

"Did you bring that in anticipation of spending the night with me?" asked Eric with a leer, nodding to her overnight duffel.

"I brought this in anticipation of hitting the ground running once more."

"You thought I would not extend my protection to you?"

"I hoped I could count on you, Eric, but I have learned to be cautious. You, as a survivor, can surely appreciate that."

Eric paused upon the front stoop, reaching up to caress Sookie's jaw line, reveling in the sound of her elevated heartbeat thrumming in his ears. He did appreciate her sense of survival, and stood by his assessment that she would make a good vampire. The idea intrigued him more and more, of making her his child. "I appreciate so very much about you," he whispered above her lips. "You will see. I will show you," he decreed, before granting another gentle kiss.

It was with his key in the lock that the vampire paused, turning to look over his shoulder. "I have never brought a human female to my home, Sookie. You are the first. You will be the only."

Sookie raised an amused eyebrow at the vampire. They took themselves _so very damn seriously_. And yet, if she had lived for a millennia, wouldn't she? Probably. She would probably be unbearable smug. "Do you realize you have a tendency to pronounce the future as you want it to unfold as though its set in stone?"

"Ah, but Sookie, do you realize that I am accurate 99 percent of the time?" He swung open the door with an antique creak, and nodded for the telepath to enter. "_Välkommen_, my lovely."

"Said the spider," murmured Sookie, only causing the vampire to smile once more. It seemed she had that ability, to cause him smile, more than any other. Was she so very amusing, or did her presence merely please him so very much? Difficult to say, but Sookie would bank on she was just amusing.

As they entered the home Sookie could see it was lavishly decorated, with all the trappings of a good and well kept southern home. But Eric did not linger long upstairs, leading Sookie to a walk in closet, where after touching something a keypad appeared. Quick fingers entered a code, and a trapdoor opened with a whoosh, revealing a set of stairs. "The house is on a hill, allowing for a basement structure," he explained as they descended. "It was troublesome to find somewhere to build a suitably secure lair here, in this swamp-infested land."

The door whooshed closed above them, and Sookie felt a touch of claustrophobia. "Six inches of steel," the vampire elaborated further. They came to yet another door at the foot of the stairs, which Eric bypassed with a fingerprint scan. In such an order, a severed piece of his finger, or Pam's for that matter, wouldn't admit an intruder through the first trapdoor.

"Do you feel safe now?" he asked cheekily as the second door closed with an ominously solid sound.

With a slight smile Sookie nodded, looking around. This area bore more of a badge of Eric's true style, with clean lines, sleek surfaces, and as much black as he could possibly muster. They entered via the living room, clad with black leather sofas, a flat screen tv, and a burnished black coffee table held up by carved dragons. At the far end Sookie could see other doors, possibly an office, and probably a bedroom. "Do you want to see where you'll be sleeping?" asked Eric, but his mischievous smile died upon his lips when Sookie's stomach erupted in an insistent growl. He narrowed his eyes at the display of a human bodily function, something nearly a mystery to him after so many years. "Sookie, did you eat tonight?"

Reluctantly, she answered, "No.. ."

"This afternoon?"

"No.. ."

Eric quirked one eyebrow, an infuriating expression upon his face. "This morning?"

"No."

"Why ever not? You mustn't neglect yourself, Sookie, especially not on the wings of a battle."

At that Sookie exploded, throwing down her bag. "Because I was sleeping this morning, because I was fucking scared a vampire I don't particularly like anymore was going to set fire to my house or something insane to get me outside, and force me to drink his blood. I didn't fall asleep until dawn, and I was too damn nervous to eat the rest of the day."

Eric watched this outburst of emotion impassively. "You were nervous about coming to me."

"A little. Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you have expressed a certain interest in keeping me as well. Its hard to retain personal freedom around you guys, even if it is nice I can't read your thoughts."

"Between freedom and life, Sookie, what would you chose?"

"Why?"

"It is always a relevant question to the human condition. But Americans of this age are spoiled; it is something they never have to consider."

Sookie inclined her head. "I guess it all depends on the master, doesn't it?"

To this answer, Eric seemed amused. "I suppose it does," he finally replied. "So, what do you want to eat?"

"You have food here?" She sounded incredibly surprised.

"No, but I will fetch some for you. I should have thought of it, but I wanted to see you safely here as quickly as possible."

Eventually food was decided upon, and Eric left the lair, taking to the air in search of nourishment for his human. When he returned with the bags of sandwiches, he found her sitting on the couch, nearly achieving a vampire's stillness as she stared at the famed silver Mjölnir, the bane of Bill Compton's face.

He set the bags down upon the coffee table, and took a seat quietly beside her, as though reluctant to disturb her. "It is a fine piece of work, that one," he complimented. Careful not to touch it, he gestured to the filigree tooling. "That would have fetched a fair price in my day."

"You really did wear these, in your day?"

"Oh yes. It was a sign of respect to Thor, and worn in hope of invoking his power. But when the New Religion came, we wore them in defiance of the crosses Christians flaunted, gloating as our gods slowly died of neglect."

"You still sound bitter about that," Sookie observed, enveloping the pendant completely in her small hand.

"No one likes it when their traditions die out, especially due to an invader's influence."

Sookie couldn't help but note the irony in that statement, and said so with a raise of eyebrows. Ignoring her, Eric asked, "And where did you buy that fine piece of metallurgy, Sookie?"

"Henrik…" Sookie's speech faded to reluctance as the vampire's eyes flashed once more at mention of his name. But he asked, so she bolstered herself. "Bought it for me, as a going away gift," she finished.

With a huff Eric tore open the food bags, unwrapping the fast food offerings, setting a banquet out before Sookie. She'd been vague in her tastes, so he seemed to have bought at least one of everything on the menu. "Do you love him, Sookie?" he growled.

Sookie stuffed the pendant into her pocket once more, reluctant to answer his question. Probably because she didn't really know the answer. So she countered with another question. "Did you have children, Eric?"

The vampire seemed taken aback by her question, the sudden change of subject. He didn't like being ignored in his requests for information, but the telepath seemed impervious to his displeased expression, selecting the ham and swiss, and taking a large bite. Now that the smell of food was immediately in front of her, her appetite returned with a vengeance.

"First answer my question, then perhaps I will answer yours."

Sookie smiled at the bargain. Always a bargain with the vampires, and never a sure one at that. "I am very fond of Henrik. He was kind and generous and intelligent and handsome--not so difficult to get used to. It wasn't easy to leave him, to come home, but I knew it was time."

"And did you make love with him?" the vampire asked quietly, but Sookie recognized it immediately as the calm before the storm.

"Now that _really _is none of your business." Sookie flashed her blue eyes at him in warning, but of course the vampire would approach her line drawn in the sand, and bound over it.

"As good as a yes," grumbled Eric unhappily.

Sookie finished her first sandwich in silence, and started on a second one. Spicy chicken, that one. "And how many fangbangers did you take into your office while I was gone?" she countered. "Fifteen? Thirty? Should I throw them in your face? Niggle over every detail?"

Eric stood from the couch, suddenly in a black mood. He didn't know what would be more detrimental--to admit to these imaginary liaisons, or to tell her the truth. That he had fed, but none of his meals appealed to him sexually. He hated it that she could affect him like that, cause him to lose an appetite he usually enjoyed with gusto. "I will be in the bedroom," he excused himself, and walked away, hoping Sookie to be watching his fine derriere and mourning the loss of it seated next to her.

"Want to know a secret?" asked the telepath slyly.

Eric paused in his step, just as she knew he would.

Secrets were one of a vampire's favorite things.

"It didn't go so well the first time," she continued. "Because when telepaths touch, our abilities increase tenfold." She rose from the couch, walked to Eric. His face was of carved stone, yet clearly unhappy. He towered over her, looking down his perfect nose at the telepath who caused his blood to boil in so many ways. She took his hand, and he let her, watching with some confusion as she placed it upon her hip. "And when his large hands were on my skin," she continued, almost cruelly, "He knew my thoughts."

As Eric's brow furrowed at the details she gave, his fangs still slowly descended as curiously she guided his own hand up the contours of her hourglass waist. He could not help but take over, his light and sure touch sliding up over her ribcage, a long thumb moving to graze the low swell of her breast.

It was as his hands traveled downwards, cupping her perfectly round bottom, that Sookie divested much more breathily than she intended, "He knew his touch made me think of you."

Suddenly the vampire's lips split in a tear of a smile, more of a baring of teeth, and possessively he pulled her against him. At that moment not a thing in the world could have prevented him from slanting his mouth over Sookie's, claiming her lips as he lifted her a bit to meet him. As she kissed him, her knees melting, Sookie resolved that she would never tell Eric of her _second _experience with Henrik, or the third, or even the fourth. Because those_ had_ been mind blowing, without any form of vampire trick or wile. Just two humans enjoying the warmth of another in their lonely cold world, and those times her thoughts focused only upon the doctor's ministrations --those times made it exceptionally hard for her to make the decision to come home.

"The fool chose the wrong deity for you," growled Eric possessively against her neck, before wet kisses traveled from her neck to pepper her collarbone. It was so tempting, offered up on a smooth tan platter, framed by the lace of her stunning dress. "You are every aspect of Freja, little one, voluptuous and strong. A goddess of love and war. Were I to die on the battlefield, it would be you who I would desire to take my soul, so I could stay with you in your sweet pleasures until Ragnarök."

"What is Ragnarök?" asked Sookie, her legs melting under Eric's skillful touch.

"The end of the world," replied the vampire, sweeping Sookie off her feet to carry her into the bedroom, walking with ease as though she weighed nothing. Another perk of dating vampires--a woman _always _felt light as a feather in his arms. "After a battle," he explained as he lay her to rest against his soft covers, "Odin took half of the bravest warriors to Valhalla, and Freja took the other to serve her. There they would feast and drink and fornicate until called upon to fight for Odin in the last battle for Earth."

Eric lay on his side beside Sookie, and she reached up to stroke his hair, loving the thick feel of it slipping through her fingers. He too loved the feeling, and said so with a groan. "Do you still believe, Eric?"

Had there been the slightest trace of skepticism or Christian superiority in her voice, something he'd endured far too much of over the last thousand years, Eric would have pointedly ignored her. But there was only a gentle curiosity, with no readiness to ridicule him for his possible beliefs, and so he shared, "In a way, but not devoutly, or even in a concrete sense. I simply have seen too much in my long lifetime to discredit them completely from my mind."

The vampire's fingertips traced small circles around Sookie's stomach, ghosting figure eights across her body. She seemed to like this, closing her eyes, scooting closer to him as his touch soothed her. A sudden idea struck him, what seemed like a _brilliant _idea to him. "Sookie, may I take you out of this?" he asked, tugging upon the fabric of her dress.

"Why?" she asked lazily, only a hint of suspicion apparent in her tone. She had a feeling she knew _why_, but wanted to at least hear him admit that he wanted to seduce her.

But of course, the vampire would admit to nothing. "Have you ever had a massage?" he asked instead, fingers tracing her contours through her dress, and wishing it were bare skin.

"No, not really," she lied, of course, but she wasn't about to sing the merits of another certain pair of Swedish hands she'd become so enamored of upon her, to the vampire. He would hiss and spit and pout, and ruin their lovely little moment there in his bedroom.

"It would help you feel better."

Once again, an open declaration, but this one caused her to smile. She opened her eyes to see Eric staring down at her, a little lust in his eyes, but a lot more understanding than she'd ever anticipated, ever dared hope for. Without a word she flipped over on her stomach, offering him the zipper of the dress. It was with delight and distended fangs that he slowly pulled it down, the pad of his finger tracing its path down her spine, sending a ripple of pleasure over her skin. She stood from the bed to slip out of the dress, but paused with hands on the straps, fascinated by the hunger in Eric's eyes. She still couldn't quite understand why such a beautiful creature as him would pick her of all people to lust so powerfully for.

"You have to promise to behave yourself," she declared, as the vampire all but licked his chops in anticipation of her unveiled body before him. "I'm not going to make love with you tonight. I don't think I could handle it."

And so it was even more to her surprise when the vampire nodded in acceptance, bobbed his blond head in understanding. "Tonight will be just for you, Sookie, I will take care of you. I regret deeply that I was not there to help you…when you needed me most. I hope you can forgive me." At the end of his statement was a solemnity that began to sting her eyes with tears; an image of Bill pushing her onto the bed with rough hands and a fiery temper flashed in her mind, but she chased it away.

What if Eric could have made it to her in time? What would have been different?

Bill would be dead now, of that she felt certain.

She pushed that thought away as well, not wanting to dwell on what ifs. They were useless, worthless. What mattered was that moment right then. And at that moment, Eric lay before her, offering to be her hero. She would take it. Oh yes, she would accept. And so it was in the spirit of giving that Sookie pushed the dress from her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.

Though he did not need it in the least, Eric drew a rattling breath at the sight of her, in all her lithe supple and tan magnificence. Skinny was the fashion now in these strange modern times, but Eric still found feminine curves to be the most alluring, and Sookie boasted a gracious plenty of them. Her bra barely managed to contain the bounty of her chest, and the white lace of her boy shorts against her tan skin caused him to twitch down low. "Freja indeed," he said quietly, and Sookie slid onto the bed once more, laying down on her stomach.

"Beautiful One," he whispered into her ear as his hands slid across her shoulder blades, causing an eruption of gooseflesh to explode along her skin. "The First Valkyrie."

"Eric," she sighed in mild protest, the smile upon her lips giving her away all the while.

"The Lady Most Fair," continued the vampire with the sacred names of Freja, a smile of his own curled on his lips. This time he planted a kiss between her shoulder blades, nuzzling her spine with the tip of his nose. "And, Most Desired."

Sookie giggled and squirmed, but it wasn't the high pitched keening of a young girl, but a sound derived from the much more mature desires of a woman. "You're still trying to seduce me."

"Am not," argued the vampire, rising up from the warmth of the back of her slender neck. He straddled her, admiring the cut of her white lace boy shorts across a round bottom he wanted to bite, before settling mostly on his thighs. "I told you that I would prove how much I appreciate you," he reminded her, hands sliding over her skin. His hand could span the small of her back, or palm one whole shoulder, and Sookie loved the advantage of his size in his ability to cover whole muscles, smoothing over them with practiced fingers. Oh, it was near sinful how clever his fingers proved to be, slaying knots left and right, circling thumbs working wonders over her musculature.

It was not long before Eric took the liberty on unclasping her bra, and Sookie surprised him by sitting up on her elbows, shrugging out of it and tossing it aside before settling back down. His fingertips brushed the sides of her bare breasts on a downward sweep, and Sookie barely escaped the urge to squirm. The problem with a massage, no matter how innocent its intent (with Eric involved, not very), was that undoubtedly and undeniably it turned her on. Even as he worked upon her shoulder and ribcage with gentle fingers, slowly another place much lower began to throb and tense with a longing to be touched.

With a human man, this almost undoubtedly would have gone unnoticed. But Eric towered all too aware of his effect on her, and it pulled a smirk from the corner of his perfect lips. It was as Sookie went almost completely still, pulling a deep breath, that the vampire smoothed his hands lightly across her shoulders and down her arms. "Do you feel better, lover?"

He moved to her side, propping his head up with one hand.

"Oh yes," she answered languidly, rolling onto her back to look up at his once more. She did it as though it were no grand thing to reveal her breasts to him, heavy ripe fruits of which he'd coveted for so long. "That was lovely."

"Mmm. Yes, lovely," agreed Eric, ducking down ever so slowly to take one soft mound into his mouth. With fascination Sookie watched him descend to her, and a wanton sound escaped her as his lips closed upon her nipple, tongue teasing gently. His hand caressed the other, engulfing it in his large hand, yet he was gentle as a lamb in his movements that caused her back to arch.

She had a feeling she wouldn't regret rolling over, and here Eric was, proving her right. But as his hand smoothed down her stomach, fingers dancing in their caresses upon her skin, that she caught his hand with hers. "Eric, we can't…" she sighed, almost sadly, but she had laid down a ground rule and at least wanted to appear consistent, even while her body screamed at her to forget she'd ever opened her mouth.

Raising up from her breast, it was with a barely banked fire in his eyes that Eric insisted generously, "_We _won't. But _you _will." His fingers slipped past the elastic of her boy shorts, caressing the golden curls below. He marveled at the juices already pooled there, an intoxicating heat rising from her. "If you like," he added at the last minute, but perhaps tipped the game in his favor as he stroked her in slow circles with his middle finger.

"That's not fair to you," she somehow managed to sigh between a groan and the most delicious sensations tingling at her center.

Taking in the show before him, the vampire shook his head. "I disagree, lover. As I said, tonight is for you."  
No more intelligible English came from Sookie's mouth, as Eric took her blissed out silence as consent, and slipped one long finger inside her. Dear Gods, she felt like a warrior's heaven, no doubt. His thumb worked over her nub and he leaned down to kiss her, his own arousal straining almost painfully against the confines of his jeans. After so many years of so many women, he couldn't mistake the signs as Sookie neared the golden edge, her breathing heavy, her fingers curled to clutch his bicep. "Eric…" she groaned, but there was a note of strain in her voice, and he loved to hear her beg. "Please!"

"Open your eyes, lover. Look at me," he requested. It was the only thing he asked for himself, to not be denied those beautiful blue eyes as he pushed her over into the most blissful of oblivions. She opened her eyes to find his own blazing above her, an un-banked fire of lust and wonder warming her to the core. It was at that moment that a spreading warmth exploded inside her, spreading from her center to her fingertips in wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure.

"Eric!" she cried as she came, and trembled sweetly against him as she rode out the aftershocks of the explosion. It was with a warm smile that he withdrew his fingers from her underwear, and sucked them clean.

"You are delicious in every way," he commented, smiling as she collapsed against him. He pulled her to rest upon his chest, arms wrapped about her in a way she found incredibly soothing, perfectly assuring. It seemed at that moment that there could be no better, no safer, place to be.

"You are…" The telepath trailed off in her search for some description of Eric that would not seem lacking in some way, and laughed languidly instead. "I don't have words." So instead she craned her neck to kiss him, and ever so faintly she could taste herself on his tongue. "You are a thief," she finally decided upon. "You have stolen my bones." For indeed, she now felt as though she were made of rubber.

Eric laughed at that, the rumble echoing through his chest and into her ear, reverberating throughout her whole body. She loved that low sound, so similar to rolling thunder, or a growling bear; it appealed to a cavewoman in her, the lizard part of her brain. "They will grow back," he assured her, sliding fingers through her hair in a way that caused her to mewl with pleasure. "But then I will take them again."

"Not tonight," she declared, punctuated with a completely satisfied sigh. "Maybe tomorrow."

Eric knew that, but felt pleased that Sookie agreed. The impulse to ask her if Henrik ever left her so satiated occurred to him, but he quickly pushed it aside. It would only ruin that near perfect moment, and besides, it seemed petty in a way that should be below him. Even if the thought of her other Scandinavian lover caused red rage to bloom across his soul like a field of poppies, he perhaps would let it slide, at least for now. He would show her the advantage of a lover with a thousand years of practice at pleasing a woman; he would make her his own the old fashioned way, and she would come to him willingly. The promise of a challenge caused him to smile, and as he caressed Sookie's back he realized her breathing deepened, and that she had fallen asleep upon him.

"Sleep sweetly, beautiful one," he whispered in Swedish, and she answered, albeit unintelligibly, in the same language. He found it rather incredible how much she'd picked up in four months, and never would have pegged her to have an aptitude for languages. He never would have pegged her for many things, but this mortal woman kept him busy with surprises left and right. Perhaps that was what appealed most to him about her; her ability to keep him guessing. It was refreshing to meet an individual, a true rarity, he would know. And Northwest Louisiana wasn't exactly _bursting _with people who interested him, either.

The thought caused him to sigh, and a niggling thought that had only moonlighted here and there in the back of his brain began to work its way forward. Maybe it _was _time for a change of scenery. America was no longer the wild place he'd once loved so long ago, now riddled with laws and right wing religious fanatics. Perhaps he would take Sookie and Pam, and go back to the old country, or maybe even find someplace new. Maybe they would just travel for a while, in search of a place that appealed to them. The possibilities and plans played out before him as he listened to Sookie's breathing, her near feverish warmth nearly scalding his cool skin.

One thing was for certain in his mind. He would not be losing his little telepath, his little Valkyrie, again. "_Mine_," he whispered against her hair, for he could not help himself, nor could she refute him in her sleep. She would see. The time would come, and someday she would understand what she meant to him.

Perhaps even he would too.

**A/N: So, whatcha think? Thank you everyone who has left a review, to all those who will in the future! it's a great motivator to keep up with a story! **


	6. Promises To Keep

**A/N: I just want to thank everyone who's taken the time to leave a review, you guys are outstanding! Hope you enjoy this installment…**

**Chapter 5: Promises to Keep**

Eric awoke the next night to the most delicious sight beside him. Sookie, clad in a black nightie trimmed with ivory lace, lay on her side, her back to him. It was with a lazy smile he reached out, tracing her curves. "This is a treat I could get used to every night," he whispered, folding his body around hers.

Though the bond had worn off, Sookie still found she felt better as Eric touched her, wrapped his long body around hers. She'd decided to lay down after a round of vicious cramps nearly felled her, earlier that day, while she explored Eric's lair. There was an office with a computer. The living room, with its couch and tv, and dvds and bluerays. His closet, filled with designer labels, a plethora of clothing Sookie knew would look devastating upon him. There were the costumes for fangtasia, the black shirts and leather pants, and there were things of his own taste. Lighter colors along with the stylish blacks, and Sookie wanted to see him in them all.

There was even a den of sorts, complete with a tall fireplace, comfortable chairs, old paintings and bookshelves lining the walls. So many books, the amount would put a library to shame. And then there were also the swords upon the wall, some as long as she was tall. The eldest of which was tooled on the blade with an intertwining design similar to that on her Mjölnir pendant. A weapon of such fine craftsmanship Sookie assumed would have belonged to a chieftain, the leader of men she assumed Eric had once been, in his human life. There was also a room of decidedly more feminine taste, which Sookie assumed belonged to Pam. Though she didn't seem to reside with him, it didn't surprise her that his child would have a place in his lair.

With a sigh Sookie settled into Eric's arms. No, it wasn't so bad at all. She craned her neck back to steal a kiss, and the vampire gladly delivered, lips gently closing over hers. His hand traced the lacy hem of her nightgown, before slipping beneath it, clever fingers tracing her panty line, the round of her stomach, before moving to cup her breast. Both parties groaned as he squeezed lightly.

Breaking their kiss, Eric brushed his nose against Sookie's in a surprisingly tender gesture. His lips moved down her jaw line, behind her ear, and descended to find the strong pulse of her jugular. He paused at that area, seemingly unable to tear himself away, and Sookie knew he was hungry for breakfast.

Though initially hesitant, his lips on her skin plied her resolve. Hadn't he swept her away, deposited her into hiding in the most secure shelter in northern Louisiana? Fed her, and lavished the most exquisite orgasm of her life upon her? She could stand to show a little gratitude. And so quietly she relayed, "Just a little, Eric. I have a feeling I need my strength."

He groaned with pleasure and surprise, not having expected her to yield so easily that night to his hunger. But he would not look a gift horse in the mouth, and as he massaged her breast his fangs descended into her skin. The cry she gave was not one of pain. As he fed upon her, high on the heady rush of her blood, thick and vivacious with just a hint of delicious fey, his hand descended to the warmth between her legs once more. She was wet, _so wet _for him, and the thought drove him wild. She could feel his arousal pressed against her backside, and as the pressure built and built within her at the rhythmic coaxing of his skilled touch, she blindly and unthinkingly wanted him inside her.

Eric knew this, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to rip away her panties and slip inside her. But there were other deeds to be done, and sadly he knew he didn't have the time he required for her, for their first time. Oh, hours, at least. Hours he didn't have, at least at that moment.

Though still hungry for her, the Viking vampire withdrew, having had enough to survive for the night. To slake his appetite would have required draining Sookie, and that too would have to wait for some later night. But he did not cease his attentions to her womanhood, and it was with a triumphing pleasure that he watched her tremor and groan, her fingernails digging into his arm as she came once more. "Eric!" He teased her a little more as her body quieted, relishing the last waves of pleasure almost as much as she.

"I told you I would steal your bones again," he chuckled as Sookie went limp against him, a satisfied smile upon her lips. They lay in the quiet for a few minutes, until Sookie noticed the vampire's impressive bulge in his boxer briefs had still not gone down. She moved her hips against him, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes, and Eric growled in response. All he wanted to do was sequester himself in his lair with the telepath for the rest of the night. But alas, there were politics. Mother fucking vampire politics. He was beginning to tire of them almost as much as Sookie.

As Sookie's hand descended to touch him, her fingers brushed just the tip of his head before he caught her small hand in his, kissing her palm. There was a note of strain in his voice, as he explained, "I will have you, lover, and it will be a glorious thing. But I fear now is not our time. I have been summoned by the queen." He moved to graze her thumb with his teeth, taking it completely into his mouth for a moment before releasing her. "She doesn't like to be kept waiting, and if I take you now, she will have to wait a long, long time. "

"What does she want?" asked Sookie, shivering from the darkness of desire in Eric's eyes, but still unable to conceal the element of disappointment from her tone.

"The summons came via Bill Compton's text as you slept last night, so I assume it has something to do with you. Perhaps I will rip him to pieces before her." The thought pulled a feral smile from him, and a sigh from Sookie. She turned to face him, burying her face in the bend of his neck. He realized that the mere mention of that vampire still upset her, caused her to shake with fear and anger and betrayal.

"What are we going to do?" Her question came muffled, her face pressed against his skin.

"He will be punished, Sookie."

"Will he?" There was more despair in Sookie's voice than the Viking could bear, and he pulled her back to look into her eyes. There were the tears he suspected, and with the blade of his thumb he wiped them away.

"Why would he not? You doubt my word?"

"If he is the queen's agent, then maybe I fear you as her sheriff will not be allowed to touch him."

Eric laughed bitterly at the thought, for he knew there was not a law in the world that could keep him from causing Bill the vampire considerable pain, once he got his hands on him. "If I ever promise you anything, Sookie, it is that Bill's crime will not go unpunished. I swear it from the marrow of my bones." Cupping her face in his hand, Eric kissed the tears from her eyes. "I must dress, my darling."

Sookie nodded, and it was with utmost reluctance that Eric peeled his body away from her intoxicating warmth. That night she burned almost feverish, and the vampire wanted to rub himself all over her, steal more of that warmth for his own cold self. Her blood already burned in his veins, giving his pale skin a healthy flush, almost a fey glow.

He paused in the bathroom door, making sure to meet Sookie's eyes, which were already targeted upon the round marvel that was his derriere. He licked clean the finger that brought her such pleasure, and smiled at the sudden desire apparent in her features, chuckled as she sighed. He left the door open, and she watched hungrily as he stepped into the shower.

When he exited, towel wrapped about his waist, Sookie perched upon the edge of the bed, staring at the floor in a melancholy way. Her eyes only brightened a fraction for the glorious sight before him. "What are we going to _do_, Eric?" she asked, brow furrowed with worry.

He went to his closet, and Sookie watched with fascination as the muscles of his back rippled as he flipped through the long line of shirts. He seemed indecisive, perhaps because his mind mulled more important matters. Eric was a master plotter, and for once the telepath felt grateful for it. He was plotting _for _her, this time. At least, she hoped. She stood from her seat, crossing the room to stand beside him, feeling dwarfed by his monumental stature.

"Wear this one," she suggested, drawing out a sky blue dress shirt, crisp from the cleaners.

Eric accepted it with a toothsome smile, for some reason pleased by her dressing him. "There are many options for strategy, Sookie." He hung the shirt on the corner of the closet door, and without the slightest hint of modesty, stripped away the towel from his waist. Was it because he was Scandinavian, or just because he knew the sight of him moved her?

Either way, she could tear her eyes away from his beauty no more than a train wreck.

"The Queen will undoubtedly ask if I know of your whereabouts. If I say yes, I have seen you, could place hands on you if she desired, then she will undoubtedly demand it. I would have to claim you as mine, for you to retain some hold of your own reins. But she would still demand use of you, through the fealty I owe her." Eric stepped into a pair of black boxer briefs, a platinum band upon the top proclaiming _Calvin Klein_. Well, he _wouldn't _wear Hanes, would he, thought Sookie amusedly.

"Or, I say no, I haven't seen you. I had no idea you were back, well of course you would avoid me like the plague." A rogue smile broke out at the last comment. "But then, what protection would you have, Sookie? You wouldn't be able to stay in your home anymore. You would have to run, go somewhere new. Somewhere far away."

Sookie perched upon the bed once more, chewing upon her lip. Well, she _had _said she couldn't wait to get away again, hadn't she? But this was so permanent, so _very _serious. She realized if she ran this time, she probably wouldn't be able to come back. She would be abandoning her home for good.

It all boiled down to if she wanted to play the vampire game or not. If she stayed, she would have to. The vampires would force her to use her talents for them here and there, whether she liked it or not. Either through Bill, or only slightly better, through Eric. And if she left, well, what about her friends? Tara, and Sam. And even her brother, worthless as he was. She realized with a little shock that in all of Bon Temps, all of _Louisiana_, there were only three humans she could imagine actually _missing._

Well, and then there was Eric. What about Eric? He couldn't leave. He was a sheriff, and the Queen's best, at that. And the truth of the matter was, deep down in a strange dark corner of her heart, Sookie knew she would miss him. That a little piece of her would break, if she never saw him again. Leaving for a few months had been different--she knew she would be back. This loomed ten times more serious, more dangerous, more _final_.

As she mulled Sookie watched Eric dress, watched him pull the blue shirt over his shoulders, tuck it into a pair of black slacks, and fasten it off with a black belt and silver buckle that gleamed. He finished it off with a black vest, and the effect was devastating. The blue set off his pale skin, eyes, and hair magnificently, the way she knew it would. She decided it was her new favorite color on him.

Eric watched the thoughts fly across his telepath's face with interest as he donned his dress shoes, perfectly polished black patent leather. "Well, lover, what would you like me to say?" he asked gently, and her eyebrows raised as he extended two metal collar-stays to her. Surprised, she stood to slide them in place; the scene was nearly ridiculous, as familiar as cinching a tie for him before he went to work. He smiled as she tended to him, straightening his collar.

"I don't want to work for her," she confessed. "But I also know…" She gulped for what she was about to admit, somehow suspecting that it could change the course of her life forever. "I know that I would miss you, Sheriff Northman, if I left again. It leaves a girl conflicted as all Hell."

Eric's large hands moved to settle on her shoulders, sliding over her skin gently, raising gooseflesh along her bare arms. He wanted to fall upon her once more, but knew it would not be wise to carry too much of her scent into Sophie-Anne's palace. Bill would know it, undoubtedly. She seemed to follow this logic already, and kept her distance, didn't curl against him the way she longed to.

"Then perhaps, Sookie, we should just run away together." He smiled a toothsome smile at the expression of utter disbelief written across her face.

"How?" she sputtered when she finally asked. "You have duties here, how can you possibly get out of them? Something tells me you can't just resign, that would be _too easy _for you vampires."

Eric folded over from his lofty height to lay the gentlest of kisses upon her soft lips. "I think I have a plan, lover. A _masterful _plan."

The vampire paused with his hand upon the doorknob, the closest thing to childish glee she'd ever witnessed upon his features. Of course he would love a good intrigue, the chance to out fox someone. "Promise me you'll still be wearing that delightful little scrap of silk when I return?"

Sookie leaned against the post of his bed, his excitement beginning to rub off upon her. "_Jag lovar,_" she agreed with a smile. She didn't know how Eric planned to get out, but she had a feeling she knew where they were going. The very thought sent her heart to soar.

**A/N: Well, do you think she'll keep her promise? Heh. Feedback is oh so VERY much appreciated! Thanks everyone!**


	7. Bending The World

**Chapter 6: Bending The World**

Eric entered the queen's palace, taking in the lavish trappings with tired eyes, having made this visit perhaps one too many times. With every step the thought of a new beginning excited him more and more; he fought to keep its radiance from his face, from his eyes.

It was not hard as he laid eyes upon Bill; a black rage filled him, spread like poison to fill every corner in his bones. That too was even harder to keep from his face; the fact that he would like nothing better than to rip Bill to pieces, one patch of flesh at a time.

"Your majesty," he greeted the small figure upon the high throne, bowing low. He also nodded to Sigebert and Wybert, the twin mountains who guarded her fair figure. Andre was nowhere in sight.

"Sheriff Northman," she replied in kind, chin held high. He did not mind Sophie-Anne particularly, though nor did he feel a burning loyalty to forward her own interests. He took the position as Sheriff to be his own master, as much as he could be without shouldering the responsibility of the entire kingdom. That too could have been possible; Sophie-Anne always treated him with a certain wariness, as though she too knew this fact.

Eric ignored Bill Compton for the speck of dirt he was; the former soldier noted this, and seemed to take great offense. He stood dressed in his usual drab khakis and button down oxford; the man wouldn't know style if it bit him in the ass.

For once, Sophie-Anne did not beat about the bush. "Were you aware, Sheriff, that I had dispatched Bill Compton to that hole-in-the-wall Bon Temps to bring Sookie Stackhouse under my control?"

Eric raised his eyebrows questioningly, but gave little else as far as expression. "No, your majesty, I was not aware."

Sophie weighed him with her gaze, and he knew he remained as inscrutable as stone, a blank page. "Bill did not tell you?"

"I knew Bill had a particular interest in her, yes, but I assumed it to only be…of a personal nature."

"And that is why you interfered?"

"Interfered, your majesty?"

"I understand you tricked her into drinking your blood in Dallas, after taking a bullet for her? You established a bond with her, after Bill had already staked her as his territory. Is this not true?"

"It is true," Eric confessed, with no remorse. Though he refused to look at Bill, ignoring him as one would a servant, he could feel his gaze boring into me.

"Why would you do that, Northman, when you know it is against vampire law to touch another's bonded?"

Eric did not exactly expect an impromptu trial this visit, and fought not to do such things as roll his eyes, and give such answers as _because Bill is a wimp. _

_Because deep down she wanted me to. _

_Because Sookie is mine._

Eric countered with another question, making an attempt to throw the Queen off the trail of his personal motivations. _Because I liked her_ was also an answer that would not quite fly in a vampire court. "Why was I not informed of _your_ interest in Sookie Stackhouse? Why did you not charge _me_ with the task?"

The queen leveled a hard stare in his direction, and there hovered an answer _she _did not want to articulate. She knew she could control Bill much easier than Eric, and did not want to admit that her hold upon him remained tremulous. "Would you have altered your actions, had you known?" she sneered, obviously displeased.

"Certainly," assured Eric, smirking in a self-absorbed way. Yes, he was arrogant, but much of it was a mask he had assumed over time, a form of protection, intimidation. It just so happened that his threat was not an empty one. "I would have brought her to you on a silver platter. If you wanted the job done right, why would you trust it to a whelp like Bill?"

Bill bared his fangs in Eric's direction, pointing a finger of accusation. "_You _are the one who drove her away, Northman. She left after working for you at Fangtasia. Something you did caused her to flee where we could not follow until the bond faded."

It took every fiber of Eric's self control not to spring on Bill, and rip his spine out his throat. He would bide his time. He would plan, and he would have Sookie's revenge. But the queen's throne room was not the place, he reminded himself, suppressing a twitch.

"I beg to differ, Bill," argued Eric, not even needing to fake a smug smirk. "I'm afraid she left my office that night nothing but _satisfied_. So, what did _you _do, I wonder, to cause her to fly?"

"Enough!" For such a small being, Sophie-Anne's voice rang deafeningly through the hall. "Enough of this bickering. She is back now, according to Bill. Did you know _that_?"

Unconsciously, Bill touched his cheek, and Eric wondered if it was the one that received the wrath of Thor's silver hammer. He hoped it had been excruciating, but it would be nothing compared to the pain Eric planned to cause him.

"No, your majesty," Eric lied, inscrutably. "She has not yet come to me."

Archly, Sophie-Anne raised an eyebrow. "Well, the fact of the matter is that Sookie Stackhouse has returned, and I _want_ her. I am bringing you in on this now, Northman. Bill is to be her master, but aid him if you must. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Eric bowed low, understanding when he had been dismissed. Bill did the same, and followed on Eric's heels.

It wasn't until they exited outside that Bill dared speak to Eric. "You truly were not aware of her return?"

_Not the time, not the time_, he reminded himself, fighting not to spring. "I don't live across the graveyard from her, Bill. Why did you not alert me?"

"I tried," countered the younger vampire, no doubt referring to his texts.

"You asked for a meeting, and I ignored you for the night, because I don't like to look at you," insulted Eric. "Now, to inform me Sookie has returned, well, all that would have required was a simple, _Sookie is back._"

"I was ordered not to tell you of my mission."

"It doesn't matter now," barked the Viking, losing his patience, and control of his voice. "The Queen has asked for my help now. Where you failed with Sookie, I will not."

Bill bared his fangs at Eric, barely restraining rage of his own. "She is _mine_, Eric. The Queen has given her to me."

Shaking his head, Eric could not disguise his disgust. "What a perfect waste," he spat, and took to the air. There were some things to attend to at Fangtasia, plans to discuss with Pam, before he could return to Sookie. The thought of that nightgown and the treasure that lay beneath it caused him to harden as he flew. Undoubtedly she would be keeping her promise to him, and he imagined the things he would do to her to pass the time in the air. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he nearly overshot the club.

The vermin were out in full strength that night, he could see, as he made his way inside. All who recognized him raised eyebrows at his attire, obviously surprised he did not wear leather or a black wife-beater. The women were particularly interested in his change of dress, perhaps not quite so enthralled with the dark and brooding atmosphere as they let on. Oh, how _tired _he was of this place, he thought to himself, repressing the urge to growl at them all. He hadn't really realized it until Sookie dared ask _why _he wasted his time in such a way, but he had definitely become bored with Fangtasia, its clientele, and wasting away hours of his life on that damnable throne.

Pam, of course, immediately wore a smirk at the sight of him. "Blue, eh? Wearing your lady's colors to the battlefield? I never would have guessed-"

"Quiet," he scolded her, suddenly suspecting ears everywhere. He ushered her into his office, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Well, it _is _a nice change," she complimented in an offhand way, crossing her arms over her chest, hip cocked haughtily.

But Eric was in no mood for banter. "Our dear queen has demanded Sookie be brought into her service," he imparted.

"So blood bond her. Big deal, Eric. She may not be willing now, but she'll worship you eventually, just like the rest of us." The last was punctuated with a massive roll of eyes that caused the Sheriff's shoulders to stiffen.

It was then that Pam sensed the seriousness of the matter, and knew there was something else lurking below the surface. "What else, Eric?" she asked quietly.

"She has decreed Bill is to be her master. One more taste of his blood, and it will be so."

All joy in teasing her master died upon Pam's face at hearing this. "What will you do?" she asked quietly, now speaking in Swedish. It was their language of choice for matters of secrecy; no one but Sookie ever expressed any interest in even learning in their little corner of Louisiana. Annoying, perhaps, but convenient all the same.

"Leave," Eric confessed.

Pam's eyes widened with surprise. Never in a thousand years would she have guessed the telepath Sookie Stackhouse would come to affect her master in such a way. Perhaps she should have known, from the interest he expressed in her, the very first night she walked into Fangtasia in that white dress. But it was so unprecedented, this continued association with a human-even his decision to turn Pam herself had been impulsive. Not the product of an infatuation. Or worse yet…what if it was love? Oh, it was _too _strange to comprehend.

"You would throw away everything you have built, for a human girl?" she questioned cautiously. Not to insult, but merely seeking understanding.

Eric raised his arms, gesturing to the walls around him. "Its not _exactly _my masterpiece," he countered. "I am bored with this place, these people. This state, this country. If I leave, will you come? If you wish to stay, it is your choice."

Pam sneered at the thought of remaining in Louisiana without Eric. "You are all I have in this god forsaken place, of course I would go with you. But Sophie-Anne will never let you go. You swore fealty to her." Pam leaned against the desk, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the bombshell just dropped upon her by her master.

"Ah, but she will," Eric happily assured her, a wicked grin curling his lips. "She will have no choice."

His child inclined her pretty head, interested. For when her master made a plan with that particular glint in his eye, the world would bend as he so desired it. "Alright," she agreed, and not without a certain note of excitement. "Then where are we going?"


	8. Blood of a Goddess

**Chapter 7: Blood of a Goddess**

Eric entered his lair on the wings of dawn with an arm full of groceries for Sookie. She surely had finished off all the sandwiches he had purchased the evening before. He had stayed later than anticipated at Fangtasia, plotting in near silence with Pam. She accepted his decision with grace, even anticipation. Though she never would have voiced it to him, rural Louisiana had worn out its welcome with a sophisticated vampiress like her. What _was _he thinking, settling in this place?

Once, it had been a wild, wonderful place, he reminded himself, thinking with joy of the swathes of untamed country, the fierce animals and hardy peoples. The Wild West, and the Big Easy in its heyday…once upon a time, there had been a certain appeal to a man like him. But now the fierce animals were all killed, and the natives culled to the wastelands of the west--all that was good had been replaced by rules and laws, for humans and vampires alike.

He'd tried his hand at mainstreaming, the bar had been a whim, honestly, and was successful. No doubt about that. But it wasn't the type of success he cared to devote himself to any longer. His attention span had run out, and he decided it was time to cut and run with the crown jewel of Northwest Louisiana in his possession, the best thing he'd found in that backwards state.

Eric sensed Sookie was not waiting in the bedroom for his return, but in the office, of all places. He entered the room in question to find her curled in his massive office chair, true to her word, still clad in that delectable little number of a nightgown. It had ridden up to expose her thighs, and consequently, his fangs slid down. Without a sound he curiously leaned over to nudge the mouse of his computer, awakening the little machine. The sudden brightness caused Sookie to stir, but did not wake her.

An examination of the screen revealed she had been researching on the internet the possibilities of attending university in Sweden, and the visa requirements. Of course she would have to worry about such petty things, but Sweden would be easier than most to gain access to. It was interesting to him, that the Scandinavian nations that had borne the Vikings had now turned to embrace peace and acceptance in their cultures, far more than the United States, which claimed to be the great peacemaker, while it ignored the UN and stoked the fires of international unrest for the sake of oil.

The idea of Sookie attending school pleased Eric for some reason. Not that she would need it; he intended to support her completely, there would be no more barmaiding for his little Valkyrie. How he intended to convince her of this was a whole new battle to consider, but he would have his way, he felt sure. As long as she was kept occupied, why would she mind?

Sookie murmured in her sleep as Eric scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the bed. His nostrils flared as he noticed a certain odor about her; it was heady and metallic, similar to blood, but _not quite_. Oh, what luck! He'd thought he'd detected the signs, her snappishness, her clutching of her abdomen before he woke her earlier. But here it was, the most exquisite time of the month for a vampire with a female human lover.

She opened her eyes as he lay her upon the bed, and sighed approvingly as he lavished gentle kisses upon her mouth and throat. More and more awareness returned to her with every moment, her blue eyes becoming bright as sleep fell away. "Did you see the queen?" she asked, voice thick with sleep.

"Yes," Eric answered, tossing his vest away. Sookie marveled at the effect of the pure blue upon him, sighing in appreciation.

"I want to buy you sheets in this color," she said with a smile, reaching up to unbutton his shirt, catching on to his intentions very quickly. "It would be such a sight, I would never let you leave them."

"Do you promise?" chuckled Eric, hovering above her breast. She cried out as he descended upon her, sucking through the silk of her nightie. "Mmm. This has to go." She arched her back, allowing him to draw it over her head, and it soon joined his vest in a pile upon the thick carpet.

"What…" Sookie was momentarily distracted by the sensation of Eric's mouth dragging across her skin. "What did Sophie-Ann want?"

"She wants you," growled the vampire, lowering his weight to rest upon her. She loved it, loved the way she sank into the bed with Eric above her. "But she can't have you."

"How--"

Eric swallowed her question with a passionate kiss, and Sookie melted as his tongue plied her, exploring her mouth. "No more questions tonight. No more politics. The sun will rise soon."

His hand descended to dip into her panties for the second time that night, and a sudden realization dawned upon Sookie, something that had escaped her memory under the haze of sleep and bliss of Eric's mouth upon her. She placed her hand over his, halting his advance. "Eric, I forgot…we can't, I'm on…" She paused, obviously embarrassed. _Her period. The rag. _A plethora of euphemisms ran through her head, none of which she wanted to voice aloud. The vampire fought not to roll his eyes at this modern obsession, modern shame, of a woman's monthly time.

"Sookie, I am a vampire, and you are the woman I desire most, bleeding between your legs. How much closer to heaven could you take me?" His hand began its descent again, as he obviously assumed the discussion over, but Sookie tightened her grip upon him.

"You really don't think it's gross?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in doubt.

Eric growled, for all he wanted was to dip his fingers inside her and lick them clean. "Of all the horrible things Christianity has done, this might be the worst. It has made you all ashamed of your own bodies, and their natural functions. But what could be a better sign of a young healthy female body in its prime? Something to be grateful for, proud of? Tell me, Sookie, are you truly repulsed by the idea of me touching you as you bleed, or is it that you have been trained to _expect _me to be?"

Sookie paused, truly thinking on Eric's question, a trait of hers that he appreciated. She wasn't one to immediately blurt out the answer she thought he wanted to hear, as most did. "I guess not," she finally answered. "I certainly don't want you any less because of it. But won't it make a mess?"

Eric smiled at this, and divested Sookie of her under things, leaving her nude in all her golden glory before him. "I promise not to spill a single drop. May I taste you, Sookie?" he asked, as though he didn't already fully intend to do as he pleased. He was learning how to push her buttons, how to get what he wanted from her without too much protest. And she would love it, he knew, even if she needed a few moments to get used to the idea.

Looking down her body, Sookie watched the vampire hovering above her stomach, his tongue tracing small patterns upon her skin. He dipped lower, planting a wet kiss above her pubic line, and she sighed in agreement and anticipation. "Yes…"

Needing no more encouragement, Eric pulled her to the edge of the bed, going down on his knees before her. It suited him down to his bones to pleasure her like this, worshipping on the altar of this glorious goddess. This was a sacrament he would gladly take, as often as she would let him. He pulled the device used to staunch the bleeding in this modern age out of her orifice, tossing it into the trashcan, and true to his word his lips latched upon her before any precious drops could touch the bedspread.

If her blood was a treat, then her monthly juices could be described as nothing less than ambrosia. He placed her legs over his shoulders, and drank deeply of her, close to coming himself listening to her sighs of pleasure. His lips and tongue upon her built the tension inside her until her back bowed, she could no longer stand the pressure. Sookie exploded, and the clenching of her walls sent a rush of sweet blood into Eric's mouth, causing him to follow close behind her.

Dizzy from the pleasure, Sookie was barely able to raise her head to look down her body. Eric rested with his cheek against her thigh, and she could only see the top of his golden mane, and those blue eyes blazing up at her, hooded with the aftereffects of an amazing orgasm. Caught in his gaze, she watched as he lazily lapped at her center once more, causing her to cry out. "Eric!"

"I will never tire of you saying my name like that." The vampire licked his lips clean, as though to demonstrate other things he also would never tire of.

Sookie paid him a wry smile, and slowly began to inch off of the bed, intent on making it to the bathroom without bleeding all over his sheets. He wouldn't have minded, but…she had to sleep on them too. He let her go, watching amusedly at her rubber-legged gait. Some day such things would not bother her. Sookie gave him a once over, pleased that he still wore that breathtaking blue, but knowing his trousers might have been stained beyond help. Had she really done that?

Oh yes, yes she had.

Eric undressed, and climbed into bed, limbs growing heavy with the sun rising above the horizon. He could feel it, even fight it a little, but even he couldn't resist its pull eventually. It seemed there were never enough hours of darkness, and he looked forward to relocating to his northern homeland, where in winter nights would be long.

Sookie returned from the bathroom to find a very sleepy Viking stretched out before her on the bed. With a lazy smile he extended his hand for her, and as she accepted it she marveled at how very _small _he made her feel. "Its mind boggling, Eric, to try and imagine all the things these hands have done over a thousand years."

There were many things Eric knew Sookie didn't _want _to imagine he'd done with those hands--but he spoke nothing of this, instead bantering, "But you, lover, are among their favorite." He pulled her to lay beside him, and spooned behind her. His massive form engulfing hers, sheltering her from the world, gave Sookie an unexpected and much appreciated sense of security.

"Eric?"

"Yes, lover?"

"Its been a long time since I've felt so safe. I've been happy, but not secure. So.. .thank you."

Eric found it interesting that in the protection of the sun 24 hours a day Sookie had not felt completely safe, but where vampires were involved, perhaps she had felt anything could be possible. Possessively he pulled her closer, cupping her breast in one large hand. "And you, Sookie fill me with.. ."

He fought to find the word in English, or any other language he'd learned over the years. This was all so ridiculously alien to him, this desire to be tender. It had ambushed him cleverly, sneaking up from behind, gripping his heart when he least expected it. A little blond barmaid from podunk northern Louisiana, with a plethora of hidden merits.

"Warmth," he finally completed. "You thaw my heart with warmth, and it leaves me.. .bewildered."

"You don't seem bewildered," she teased, nudging his groin with her round little bottom.

"Hmm. Making love comes easily, especially with a morsel like you. Though we haven't _quite _managed--I hope you take my previous exhibitions of skill as tokens of good faith." Sookie laughed lightly, joyfully. She found, surprisingly, that she wasn't in a rush. She knew in good time such things would come, and they would be wonderful, no doubt. But she found she was also perfectly content to enjoy Eric--_this _Eric. This playful, almost gentle version of the sheriff she'd known and feared. Perhaps if he'd showed her this side of himself from the beginning, Bill never would have had a chance.

However, he couldn't have done that, could he, Sookie reasoned. The fear and awe Eric cultivated in those around them was the very reason he'd survived for so long. Nice guys finish dead, in the vampire world.

"But things beyond that confuse me--perhaps it is why I have always avoided them."

"You are capable of love, Eric. If I didn't believe that, I don't think I would have ever been so attracted to you."

Eric raised an eyebrow at that. "Love and sex--they are inseparable for you?"

"They are.. .closely knit, for me, yes."

"Do you realize how rare a woman you are?"

"Not so rare at all," she argued. "Perhaps only rare in that I will admit it. Every woman you've ever had, Eric, I would wager hoped you would find them special in some way."

The vampire went quiet. Yes, of course he knew this, but he had used them anyway, without a care for their secret hopes, or what he crushed by discarding them. That was the nature of the game; the fang bangers played it gladly, just for a taste of him. He never thought twice about it, perhaps, until that very moment.

"Do you think ill of me, Sookie, that you are the only one I have found to be special?"

"I'm flattered," she admitted. "I think you might be crazy too--I don't think there's anything too special about me. And I guess I feel sorry for the others, but the game is what it is, I guess."

Eric's mouth suddenly curled in a smug grin; it was a brilliant, yet infuriating thing. "So you have always thought me capable of loving you, my little Valkyrie? You esteem yourself far more than you let on."

"Or delude myself," she sighed, causing Eric to growl. He flipped her in his arms, leaning over her, looming. Her eyes darted from the delicious expanse of his chest, to the chiseled bulge of his bicep, to his burning blue eyes, feeling quite conflicted as to where she should rest them.

"I was so very _angry _when you left us, Sookie. And it took me forever to figure out why. I felt as though I were missing a part of myself, I felt incomplete, and it _enraged_ me that I let you so far under my skin. But now.. .now I accept it. You are apart of me, even without the blood bond. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Sookie understood that it was possibly the closest Eric would ever come to telling her that he loved her. She would take it. Reaching up to trace his features, his brow and nose and lips, nails ghosting over his jaw line, the telepath nodded. "I understand. Whether we like it or not, we're up to our necks in _something _together."

That rogue smile returned once more, this time causing Sookie's heart to race. His movements were becoming lethargic due to the rising sun, but still Eric fought its pull, playfully trapping Sookie's hands above her head. "You could just take my blood and be done with it, lover. Twice more, and you would be my bonded in full."

"No, Eric. I want to be lots of things to you, but your _bonded _isn't one of them." Eric grumbled something negative about _empowered modern women. _"Did you not just say I'm apart of you, even without the bond?"

"Yes."

"Then what's the point? Except to own me? Except to know exactly where I am every waking moment?"

Eric raised a blond eyebrow, as though the answer was all but obvious, and Sookie shook her head exasperatedly. "You're so _medieval_ sometimes, you know that?"

"Don't insult me, lover, I am far older than that," he joked, settling down on the bed once more. He could deny the sun's pull no longer, and felt it pull him down into the arms slumber. Sookie, however, suddenly thrummed with tension, and he hoped she wouldn't try anything drastic as he slept. "I've never met anyone I couldn't simply take if I wanted them," he attempted to assure her. "Give me some time to get used to the idea."

Sookie nodded, scooting closer, but blue eyes still wide with alarm. But Eric could do nothing more to soothe her, or even spin more lies, for he fell into an almost wooden sleep. In a way she was grateful for that; she would have some time to think without his silver tongue in her ear, or the distraction of those all-too-clever hands upon her skin. She wondered if she'd been a fool, if Eric had every intention of keeping her the way he always had, but had simply altered his approach.

She suddenly hated it that she very well might be in love with this man, would miss him terribly if he was gone--but she still couldn't quite trust him. Sookie had allowed herself to forget that, blissfully, for a few hours. A night.

But she resolved she would not let her guard down so perfectly again. She couldn't with the Viking; he was simply too clever. A master plotter, yes--but Eric's forte lay in plans made for himself. In her immediate panic she'd allowed herself to think she might be the center of his universe. Foolishly. In their little corner of the galaxy, how could Eric ever be anything but the sun? And she…was a planet, or maybe even just a moon.

Sookie looked to Eric's angelic face, so peaceful in his sleep. It was ridiculous how beautiful he was--a face that had no business upon a Viking, much less a vampire. Brushing a lock of hair behind his ear, she kissed him on the cheek, and settled back down into his arms.

They would figure something out.

They would come to terms.

It wasn't without apprehension that she wondered what exactly she'd managed to mire herself in this time.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! A huge thank you to everyone who's left a review, you guys have sufficiently addicted me! lol**


	9. Haiku Incrimination

**Chapter 8: Haiku Incrimination**

Sookie spent the day rambling around Eric's lair, eating little snacks, reading random chapters of the many books that interested her, and pacing the floor. She found it extremely difficult to stand still, perhaps because her mind raced and she was trapped in what was essentially a glorified finished basement.

Multiply times, she peeked in on Eric, curious when he would rise so far underground. He'd mentioned being able to rise early, but she had no idea what time would be normal. Dread and anticipation filled her, as she waited for him to wake.

Intent on killing more time, she went to the office once more, firing up Eric's computer. Certain things were password protected, but the internet was open for use. The possibility of continuing her education in Stockholm seemed more and more real the more research she did. All she had to do was be admitted, and get the right visas. Ah, and money, that dirty little middleman. By 2011 it was rumored the government would stop subsidizing foreign students, leaving her to scholarship and whatever she could scrap together. She still had a chunk of cash saved from working Merlotte's and Fangtasia--but it wouldn't last forever.

Next she decided to check email--a fairly new form of correspondence for her. There was no one in the states who would contact her there, but she'd made numerous friends abroad. Maybe one of them had something to say?

Who was she kidding? There was one person who she truly hoped to hear from, and her breath hitched at the sight of his address. Hjurgenson gmail. com. She debated with herself on whether it was somewhat dishonorable to even open it on Eric's computer, but decided she should at least let him know she was alright. Just because they had been lovers didn't mean that was all they were to each other--Henrik had been a friend first, and she hoped he always would be.

With a secret smile Sookie's thoughts drifted to their parting at the airport. His long arms around her in a hug, the civilized and platonic kiss on the cheek--they almost skated by with just that.

Almost.

She'd been halfway out of his arms before he pulled her back to him, long fingers sliding into her hair as he tilted her head towards him. Sookie shuddered just a little at the memory of those doctor's hands, fingers clever and sure, that knew all the secrets of the human body. Particularly hers, she thought with a smile, and she squeezed her fist with longing at the memory of the way his lips grazed hers in parting. "Be safe," he urged her. "Be happy."

There were so many things she'd wanted to say to him. An apology that she had to go, a promise to return. The former he understood; he'd seen the inside of her head, even at moments he didn't want to. And the latter--it hadn't been a promise she could be sure to keep, so she didn't offer it.

Sookie clicked on the message, to find a very simple missive. No declarations of undying love, no pleas for her to return. It read:

_**Dearest Sookie,**_

_** How was your journey? You have arrived home unscathed? Forgive me for checking up--it is only that your troubles were so…unique? I hope you are well and know there is always a place for you here should you desire it. **_

_** Truly Yours, **_

_** Henrik**_

__Sookie stared at the screen for minutes on end, fingers frozen in their attempt at hashing out a reply. How could she even begin to explain the events that had transpired in the mere three days she'd been home?

_**Dear Henrik, **_

_** Please don't worry about me, I'm in good hands.**_ --was as far as she got. A rough draft reply slowly appeared on the screen below that, though nothing she had any intention of sending. It more closely resembled a short journal entry than a letter, an examination of events and her feelings about them.

_**The events transpired since our parting:**_

_** -Bill lost no time in attempting to force himself on me again. Your gift proved useful in fending him off. **_

_** -The Queen wants to make me her personal telepath through him. I would love to tell her to go fuck herself, but I wouldn't survive it.**_

_** -And then there's Eric…the vampire who tantalizes and terrifies me. **_

_** Remember our laughter, improvising haikus on the boat deck, marveling at the fjords? Well, here's one for you from Louisiana.**_

_** Eric treats me like a queen**_

_** Loves me like a God**_

_** So did you--Sookie is torn. **_

Exasperated, Sookie set her head down on her arms on the desk. What the hell was she going to do? In all her frustration, the thoughts zooming through her brain at a million miles per second, she did not hear the soundless entry of an early risen vampire, or sense a pair of furious blue eyes peering over her chair, scanning her screen and the incriminating words upon it.

**A/N: I want to thank everyone who's left me words of encouragement and criticism, you make my day? So…think Eric's really **_**that **_**angry? Hehe. **


	10. The Difficult One

**A/N: So this is a bit longer than the last one…enjoy!**

**Chapter 9:**__**The Difficult One**

Eric awoke from his deep sleep, disappointed to find the bed empty beside him. No matter, she couldn't be far, he remembered with a smile. Like a great cat he stretched, and extricated himself from the covers, intent on hunting down his little telepath. He felt her presence in the office, and padded in that direction.

As before, he entered soundlessly, this time finding Sookie with her head down upon the desk, buried in her arms. Puzzled, for she did not seem to be crying, but exasperated, he glanced at the screen.

Immediately his fangs ran down at the sight of the message from his rival the doctor, and Sookie's tentative reply. He wasn't sure what irked him more; her reaction, or the last line of her note. He liked the beginning of the poem--that part he would never let her forget. But the ending--oh, it sent his blood to boil.

The vampire contemplated throwing the screen against the wall in his rage, but thought better of it, instead vacating the office without ever alerting Sookie of his presence. Were they still bonded, he wouldn't have been able to sneak up on her. Were they still bonded, he felt certain he would scald her with molten anger.

Needing to get a grip on himself, he decided upon a shower, instead of immediately starting the day with a fight with Sookie. She was a delicious little morsel when she was angry--blue eyes alight, shoulders rigid, breasts bouncing as she gestured wildly--maybe their night wouldn't be so bad after all. He would make it clear who she belonged with--who was to be _her_ god.

Sookie would be torn no longer.

When he exited the steamy bathroom, Eric found Sookie seated upon the bed, awaiting him with a distracted look upon her face.

"We need to talk, Eric."

The venom welled in his mouth, and he let fly, "Are you sure you don't want to finish writing your little love letter?"

Sookie didn't seem surprised in the least that Eric had seen her note, and he wondered if maybe a small part of the bond did remain.

"It wasn't a love letter."

She hadn't sent anything incriminating, deleting the best parts, sending instead a near sterile missive, with the gist of _I'm fine, don't worry. All is well. _So what if it was a lie?

Eric came to stand before her, towel wrapped about his waist, arms crossed over his chest. Water still beaded upon his skin, and Sookie's heart clenched at the sight, the sudden urge to lick it off gripping her in a way she barely managed to ignore.

"Looked like one to me."

Sookie rolled sad blue eyes up to meet his hard gaze. "If it was, then you were mentioned with equal merit."

The vampire moved too quickly for Sookie's eyes to follow, but suddenly he leaned over her, one powerful arm on either side of her. He could crush her with those arms, pull her to little pieces. Had she been a fool to assume that he wouldn't?

"I won't settle for a tie, Sookie. I _won't_ share you with him," Eric growled.

Though she jumped, Sookie did not flinch away from the vampire, refused to retreat. Nearly nose to nose, she met his angry gaze square on. "I wouldn't expect you to, Eric, if we were together. But neither will I cut him out of my life completely--he is a good friend."

Eric's nose wrinkled at her statement, and she wasn't sure which part rankled him more. "What is it you mean, _if we were together_?" He seemed genuinely offended--apparently they had reached a peak of miscommunication. Where Sookie only had a general idea of where they stood with each other, Eric no doubt had already planned the next ten years of their future together.

High handed indeed.

"Well, I guess we need to talk about that, don't we?"

"What is there to talk about, Sookie? I thought I made myself clear last night?"

The telepath smiled gently, for he'd said nothing in _absolutely clear _terms the night previous. In fact, he'd beat around the bush in nearly every possible way, just to tell her that he might love her. That he missed her when she was gone.

"You aren't going to make this easy, are you?" she sighed, closing her eyes to rest her forehead against Eric's. To her surprise, and even his, he softened at her tenderness, ducking to plant a kiss upon her pulse. He growled once more, but this one spoke to Sookie's inner cavewoman, whispered that being possessed was the way of the world, the way of nature, and she would like it. He would take care of her, see to her needs, treat her well.

It almost seemed like enough.

"It is very easy, Sookie," he groaned into the bend of her neck. "_**Be mine**_**."**

Sookie's body, at least, voted to do just that. The towel about his trim waist was coming loose as he leaned over her, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to tug upon it. But she knew if she took things in that direction she would be lost to him--they wouldn't have the discussion they needed to. She had a feeling they wouldn't say much of anything for hours on end.

"Eric, I can't--"

"You can," Eric insisted, nuzzling her neck. Sookie's hands migrated of their own accord to smooth over the plane of his chest, exploring the contours of his finely sculpted musculature. "I will protect you. Yield to me, Sookie, let me take care of you. I'll take care of _everything_."

Sookie's hands paused in their circuit, a sinking feeling spreading through her. She tried not to blame him--after all, it had only been in the past hundred years, really, that women's independence had truly taken off, right? For a thousand year old dominant male, taking care of his beloved was the way he knew best to show his affection, she told herself.

And establish ownership.

Inwardly, she groaned.

As though he sensed her inner turmoil, Eric drew back. "You are not pleased. You puzzle me like no other, Sookie. There are women who would give their souls for what I offer you."

"Don't do that," hissed Sookie, pushing against his chest. "Don't _guilt_ me." Eric huffed, obviously exasperated, but said no more, waiting for her with burning blue eyes.

Finally, she spoke once more.

"Tell me what you're planning, Eric. What's going to happen?"

The Viking straightened, looming over Sookie once more. "I cannot tell you all the details," he insisted. "It is better that you not know how exactly I plan to.. .opt out of the queen's service."

Sookie raised an eyebrow, unenthusiastic of the idea of being left in the dark, yet knowing Eric would not tell her if he truly decided not to. "Aren't there repercussions for leaving though? I guess I was under the impression you would be in Sophie-Anne's service until you died--or she did. Oh god, Eric, you're not planning.. ."

The horror in Sookie's eyes at the thought of Eric assassinating the queen for his freedom seemed to amuse the Viking. Was he capable of such a thing?

Maybe, but he had no designs upon her throne, and therefore it did not seem worth the trouble of planning it.

"No, lover, I am not planning to kill the queen. It is a tricky thing though--where usually I could just give her notice and be replaced, I think my true intentions would be all but obvious, this close to your return home. Aiding your escape from her would be viewed as a _very _treasonous act in vampire courts. That is, unless you were declared as my bonded. Then _she _would be the trespasser--but I believe you have expressed disinterest in such an alliance with me."

Sookie wondered if she truly heard a thread of pain in his voice at her rejection of his blood, or if she merely imagined it. When Sookie gave no semblance of a reply, for he _did _already know her feelings on the matter, he continued, "But in light of these complications, I have come up with a new solution." He flashed a smile, and Sookie couldn't help but notice his fangs slightly distended at the thought of a good intrigue.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Give everything up? All you've built here, Eric. Your position of power, your successful business. Are you certain you won't miss it?"

"Why would I miss it? I will have you and Pam--what more could I need?" Sookie's heart lurched at his certainty. Didn't this man ever doubt himself? Eric watched the sudden clouds pass over Sookie's features, and a sudden unexpected sadness permeated his own. "What is it, lover?"

Sookie turned her head, for she could not meet the intensity of his gaze. "You have--" Her speech hitched, a knot caught in her throat. "You have to want this change for yourself too, Eric. Its not enough, just to do it for me. I alone am not worth uprooting yourself for."

Eric realized that Sookie with her so few years could not grasp the nature of transition that was life as a vampire. So many times things would change at the drop of a dime. A revolution, a death, an opportunity. Anything could turn your world upside down; if one learned anything after living a millennia, it was that the world was not static, but an ever-changing thing.

"I have been longing for something new, even before this little catastrophe struck us, Sookie. It will be good to get away."

He skated around the unsaid questions in Sookie's eyes. _What if you get tired of me? What if I get tired of you? Will it be good to get away, even if you don't have me?_

He couldn't imagine what could possibly tear her away from him.

Well, maybe he could. It bred shadows in his heart, visible in his gaze. Sookie did not miss that dark look, but she too skirted the unsaid. The jealousy, the possessive fire.

"Then where are we going?" she asked, hoping to sail clear of the storm brewing in Eric's eyes.

Eric crossed his arms, and even in a towel he somehow managed to look entirely serious. "I had a mind to return to Sweden, as we both seem to like it so much. I keep a house there, near Stockholm. But now I don't think I want to allow you anywhere near this doctor of yours."

Immediately, Sookie's eyebrows shot sky high, as she could not believe the vampire's pure _audacity. _"How dare you? You don't think you want to _allow _me? I will go where I please, Eric Northman, you have no say in the matter." She rose from the bed, making to stalk from the room, but a large hand closed around her upper arm, holding her in place.

"Don't walk away from me, Sookie. You always walk away when there are words needing to be said."

That was the pot calling the kettle black, but the telepath took a deep breath, and it took everything she had not to whirl on the vampire with fist flying. "Let go of me, Eric. I'm mad at you right now."

"I am not pleased with you either."

Slowly, she turned. "I want to go to school in Stockholm."

"I am not arguing with this little notion of yours to educate yourself, Sookie. But you can go to school anywhere."

"This _little notion_? Do you think you could go five minutes without demeaning me?"

Perhaps unfairly, Eric sent mixed messages as he rolled his eyes and turned his back on Sookie, pulling the towel from around his waist. Apparently going out _a viking _did _wonderful _things for a man's physique.Through the red haze of her anger she found herself admiring the finest rear end that side of the Atlantic ocean, smooth tight cheeks she wanted to dig nails into. Clenching her fists to keep herself from doing just that, Sookie whirled, vacating the bedroom on quick little feet.

Furious, she paced back and forth in the living room. The walls were closing in on her suddenly; being underground, with no windows, no means to grasp the outside world through a locked door, weighed down upon her. She stood in the middle of the room, trying to calm her racing heart, palms pressed to her eyes.

A pair of hands smoothed over her shoulders, startling her. "Lover, calm down," Eric attempted to soothe. He'd changed into a pair of bright red boxer briefs, but nothing more.

"I can't," she snapped. "I'm so…angry, and scared. I have to get out of here, I want to go outside. Open the door." She knew only his fingerprint or Pam's could grant her access to the outside world.

She nearly panicked when Eric refused her, shaking that handsome head no. "Absolutely not. Have you forgotten there are those outside that would like to kidnap you?"

"So you're going to keep me prisoner instead?"

A look of distaste crossed the Viking's features. "You aren't thinking clearly, Sookie. Give your pretty head some time to cool."

"I'm thinking very clearly," she protested. "Look, Eric. You've been good to me, and I would like to try to build something between us. But if you require me to sell my soul to you, then I _will_ take my chances alone."

Sookie did not expect Eric's reaction, for he did not frown or roar, but actually had the gall to smile. Brightly. A flash of straight white teeth that made her heart ache, even as it infuriated her. "Ah, you modern women. You will have your cake and eat it too."

"You aren't taking me seriously."

"I am taking you very seriously. But I also know you will come around to me eventually--so what is the point of fighting?" Before she could move Eric had his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. To either prove a point or just because he wanted to, his lips crashed over hers, taking her in a kiss that shook her down to the core, all the way to the bone. Unable to help herself, she groaned, gripping fistfuls of his golden hair as he learned every corner of her mouth with his tongue. Clever hands slipped beneath her shirt, tracing the curve of her spine, fingertips delving into the waistline of her pants in a way that made her squirm. When at long last Sookie surfaced, gasping for air, that cocky smile returned to his lips.

"See, lover? Are you still mad?"

His ego knew no bounds.

Without another word Sookie extricated herself from his arms, and he let her go. She whirled on her heel and marched into Pam's bedroom, locking the door behind her. The vampire did not follow, letting her have her privacy, at least for the moment.

What seemed like hours later, but only until the sun set upon the horizon, Eric knocked on the door. "I am going to Fangtasia, lover. I will return to you later."

Sookie found herself dreading being face to face with the Viking vampire later--always, he would have the last word. The last kiss. He always won. He'd lived for a thousand years more than her--how could she stand a chance against his will?

If she ran away with him like this, took his protection, shared his roof, Sookie knew she would always be subject to that frighteningly irresistible will, out of gratitude or his own manipulation. Maybe he would help her because he felt something like love for her, but Eric would also expect certain things from her. It was the way he was, a product of his life as a vampire as much as his own determination.

Though Sookie wanted Eric, she knew she couldn't subject herself to that. She needed to pilot her own destiny, take charge of her own independence. She needed a life she'd built herself, something to call all her own.

Terrified for her own future, fearing not for her wellbeing, but her own autonomy, Sookie curled up in Pam's covers. Only when she was sure Eric had gone did she allow herself the indulgence to cry.

**IIIIIII**

When Eric returned that night he knocked gently upon Pam's door, still locked. "Sookie?"

No answer, though he could hear her breathing, knew she was awake.

"Let me in, lover. Please?"

"No."

"I could break down the door."

"You could."

Eric sighed. What had she done to him, that he _wasn't _doing just that? But he knew she didn't want him in there, knew she needed some space. She puzzled him to no ends, a great mystery he couldn't quite crack. Sometimes he wondered if he was simply too _ancient_ to conduct a normal relationship with a modern human; he always seemed to infuriate her with his notions. Displays of strength that always before caused women to swoon, to pledge themselves to him entirely.

Of course, he _would _pick the difficult one.

"I will give you tonight, lover," he ceded quietly. "But tomorrow, you will face me."

She gave no answer, huddled in the darkness of the bedroom like a rabbit in a burrow, listening to the snarls of the wolf scratching for entrance. With a certain sadness Sookie digested Eric's decree, thinking all the while that she just might make a liar of him.

**A/N: Oh, our stubborn little Sookie.. Heh. The Viking would do well not to underestimate her… yes? A big thank you to EVERYONE who has left feedback, I appreciate it so much!!**


	11. Infuriating Modern Woman

**Chapter 10: Infuriating Modern Woman**

Eric could not remember the last time he dreamed, and the images that rolled through his mind like an unwinding tapestry were not pleasant ones. The sound of Sookie weeping haunted him, and she lingered lost in the shadows, always out of his reach. He tried to run but his limbs were wooden; he tried to call to her, but his voice could not raise above a hoarse whisper.

He woke coated in cold sweat, finally released from the hell of his daytime slumber. Immediately he reached out, hoping to find Sookie beside him, forgiving him, waiting for him to rise so they could put their argument behind them. He knew he could make her happy, so _very_ happy, if only she would allow him the chance.

However, Eric was met not by the soft curves of Sookie's flesh by his side, but the scent of her sorrow upon his pillow. He could smell her tears, knew she had wept beside him, and upon his shoulder, and suddenly the vampire knew the source of his dreams. Her crying crossed between the thin barrier between reality and undead slumber, taunted him while he could not move to her.

A very bad feeling crept over Eric as he touched his pillow, laced with the scent of Sookie's tears. It was then that he noticed a bandage tied about his the pad of his thumb, neat and tidy and white. Puzzled, he peeled it away to find his finger perfectly whole, if maybe a little tender, even while the bandage sported a bit of his blood.

What on earth had she been up to while he slept?

In a flash he was up from the bed, and swept his lair. Checked every room, tore apart any possible hiding places, even while he could not sense her with vampire hearing or smell.

Unnecessarily but out of panic, Eric breathed heavily, nostrils flaring.

It was only after a second search through his lair did he notice the note taped to the door, penned in her slanting cursive.

_**Eric-**_

_** I can't ask you to give up everything for me, when I'm not sure I can return the favor to you. You deserve better than uncertainty, and that is all I have to offer you right now. Forgive me, but I know this is for the best. Thank you for everything, lover. **_

_**-Sookie**_

It was then that the true reality of the situation dawned on him.

Once again, Sookie was gone.

The vampire crumpled the note in his paw of a hand, tossing it in his rage. A strange feeling ambushed him, stabbed at his chest. It felt suspiciously like heartbreak, which infuriated Eric even more. He was a vampire, for Gods' sakes! How could a little mortal woman make him feel this way? So much joy, and so much pain? He roared and punched the wall, leaving a dent in the reinforced concrete and steel. Why would she do this? How could she be so stupid?

He contemplated how she had undoubtedly made her escape, and took it back. She was not stupid in the least--in fact, he wouldn't have thought her capable of slicing off the pad of his finger for the print, the key to her freedom. Of course she knew it wouldn't really hurt him, especially in his sleep--and she'd even bandaged it.

Little miss manners, taking care of him even as she fled him.

He wondered what kind of head start she had, how difficult it would be to catch up with her once the sun set. He was trapped in the basement until then, and it irked him to no end.

With a grumble the Viking stooped to the floor, scooping up the crumpled note, gingerly smoothing it out once more. The reality of the situation was even more infuriating, for he knew he _couldn't _go after her, at least not to drag her back home. Not if he still hoped for…what _was _it he hoped for? He could force Sookie to love him, so easily. So easily this turmoil seemed ridiculous. He could make it so she would never leave his side.

Well, that was the problem. He didn't want to force her, he wanted her to want him of her own accord. Wanted her to be with him of her own free will. It seemed a daunting task at that moment, for every time he thought he would make her happy, his actions only seemed to displease her.

Infuriating modern woman.

At least he knew where she was headed. _That _was no secret.

But if he couldn't go after her immediately, he could at least ensure her enemies couldn't either. He had a promise to fulfill, after all. Justice to be delivered. A cruel smile curled his lips at the thought of venting his frustration upon an unsuspecting Bill Compton. Many unpleasant treatments ran through the Viking's head for that unsavory vampire, but none seemed quite painful _enough_. But he would figure something out, he had no doubt. He would draw Bill's punishment out to excruciating lengths.

And then? Should he continue with his original plan? Even if Sookie would not be in tow, he could still catch up with her. He would try again, he decided; eternal life was just full of second chances.

With Bill earmarked as his first order of business, Eric patiently awaited nightfall. The evening was looking up after all.

**A/N: So, a great escape, or the mistake of a lifetime? Maybe a bit of both, but I bet it will **_**probably **_**turn out in the end…::shrugs, ducks thrown fruit:: Thank you everyone for your outstanding reviews!**


	12. You and I

**Chapter 11: You, and I**

**A/N: I find your varying reactions to Sookie's plans so interesting. There are two very opposite ends of the spectrum, those who think she's being childish, and those who agree entirely with her running away. Thanks for sharing your opinions! Well, as she said in her dream with Eric in True Blood, with a southern accent so thick it drips with molasses - She wants it **_**all**_**. Heh heh. **

_Sookie awoke to the steady roar of crashing waves, beach stones digging into her back. Heavy lidded eyes opened slowly to take in the landscape around her. The telepath noticed that her feet were bare and covered in sand, and she wore a rough linen dress that scratched against her skin. _

_ She stood and looked around, sunlight warming her skin. A figure moved towards her from the distance, a dog trotting at his heels. As he neared closer she recognized those shoulders, that long legged gait. _

_ "Eric!" she called out, and sprinted along the hard sand close to the surf. Soon she was upon him, crashing into his powerful arms, and with a laugh he scooped her up, swung her small form in circles. The dog barked excitedly, running in circles around them. _

_ "Sookie," he answered, cupping her face in those great hands. They were rougher than she remembered, and as she looked up into his face she realized he was flushed, tan even, and his breath was warm, his lips scalding upon hers. "Mmm. My lover. Let's go for a swim."_

_ He pulled his shirt off, revealing a tan expanse of muscled torso, and went to divest Sookie of her own garment. "Eric, but what of the others?" Sookie asked, pausing his hands' encroachment upon her person. _

_ "What others?" he asked with a teasing smile, planting a wet kiss upon her pulse that sent her knees to buckle. "Ulf?" He referred to the dog. "There are no others, Sookie. Here, there is only you and I."_

_ Convinced by his words, or perhaps his clever hands making their way beneath her skirts, kneading into her flesh, Sookie allowed Eric to divest her of her dress, drawing it up above her head with a flourish. He gave her no chance to feel self-conscious, his mouth descending upon hers in a slow kiss that consumed her to the core. _

_ It was as they bobbed in the surf, Sookie's body wrapped around the anchor of Eric's torso, that he pulled her closer still. She curled into him, her head resting in the bend of his strong neck, and they rocked to the rhythm of the waves, in tune with the ocean and the beating of their own hearts. _

_ "Sookie," Eric's breath ghosted against her ear. "I could love you like this forever, steady as the ocean's waves, if you would let me."_

_ Lazily she smiled, lifting her head to brush lips against his. The water was cool, but his body warmed her skin. He attempted to open his mouth once more, but Sookie silenced him with fingers upon his sculpted lips. "Shh. _**Here**_, I will let you do anything you want."_

_ And so he did, carrying her to lay in the surf, where he plied her with melting kisses, licked the salt from her skin. His fingers found the secret pearl between her legs, and its eager juices pooling. She gasped as he slipped inside her, he could wait no longer, and he filled her in ways no other could, his weight pushing her down against the sand. "How could you leave me?" he groaned, thrusting inside her maddening warmth, tearing a guttural moan from so deep inside her._

_ "Because," she answered, distracted by kisses growing in urgency. "You--" He pushed her hands above her head, holding her in exactly the way he wanted, exactly the way he knew would send her reeling. Colors began to dance before her eyes, as she attempted again, "Because you wanted to own me."_

_ With a growl Eric rolled his hips against hers, catching her gaze with his. He sent her over the edge with the intensity of eye contact and his next thrust. Locked against her writhing body beneath him, he soon followed her to the shining abyss, and collapsed against her supple curves. _

_ "You don't understand, lover," he finally spoke once more, lifting minutely on an elbow to look into her eyes. His fingers traced the contours of her face, the line of her nose, and the plump of her lower lip. She felt weightless, sprawled on the sand in a surreal scene of perfect calm. "I want you to own me too." _

_ For a moment all she could hear was the crash of the waves around them, caught in the pure blue of Eric's irises, staring earnestly into hers. His lips split into a smile, devoid of fangs, and he pulled her to rest upon his shoulder, surf spilling about their bodies warmed by the sun. "You, little Valkyrie," he sighed as her fingers traced his chest. "You could be the death of me."_

**IIII**

Sookie awoke with a gasp and a sense of forboding, bolting up in bed and clutching her Mjölnir, cheeks wet with tears. Her gaze tossed about the room, frantic for some affirmation of reality. There was no beach, no waves crashing, no Eric as a human man playing her body like his favorite instrument. She was in her new apartment. Snow fell outside the window, plump fluffy flakes that glowed against the night sky. Settling back down into the pillow, Sookie wondered at herself for the umpteenth occasion: _what have I done?_

**A/N: You can thank Iron and Wine's song _The Sea and the Rhythm _for this chapter--I think I was channelling... **


	13. Friends In High Places

**Chapter 12: Friends in High Places**

It was late November in Stockholm, and Sookie braced herself against the wind, a goofy grin plastered on her face. Growing up in the southern United States, she'd never experienced **_anything_** remotely like winter in a Scandinavian country. The bracing wind, the heavy snow--it was all new enough to her to be a great pleasure. She hoped it always would be. The telepath pulled up the collar of her heavy coat, purchased brand new for the season, and buried her chin into her scarf.

It was only four o'clock, but darkness had already set over the city. They were so close to the top of the world that daylight didn't last for long in the winter. Highly convenient for the fanged set, she imagined, but did not exactly know. She had not seen hide nor hair of a vampire since fleeing Eric's lair, months ago. It was strange in a way; they had played such a large part in her life for what seemed like a long time, and she found herself wondering if they ever would again.

Sookie found she did not regret leaving Louisiana, though she did feel homesick from time to time. She did not regret leaving Bill behind, or the Queen's masterful machinations. She even felt ok about leaving the care of Gran's house in Jason's hands. Her only regrets seemed to lie in the blond vampires she'd left behind; the telepath found she truly did miss Eric and Pam.

She recalled the morning of her escape, staring down at Eric's sleeping form. It was ridiculous how angelic he could look in his sleep, blanket clutched lightly at his chest, one arm flung out to the side with a dreamer's abandon. More tears had welled and rolled down her cheeks. If she was so certain she was doing the right thing, then why did it feel just a little like she'd been shot in the chest? Sookie gave in to the impulse to lie down next to Eric, curling up beside him, and wept for the uncertainty of the future. Would she ever see him again? Would he ever be able to stand the sight of her, after she left him in such a way? Tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, she'd kissed him on the cheek, and went about the rest of her plan to gain her freedom once more.

Sookie pushed those heavy memories and emotions away as she traipsed down the street. She loved that she could walk almost anywhere she needed in her usual daily routines, and take the metro anywhere else. In fact, there wasn't much she didn't love about her new life. It had been a whirlwind in the beginning. Visas, applications, legal rigamarol--without Henrik's help, she had a feeling nothing would have fallen into place so easily. But he had connections at the university and the emigration office, and had dealt with similar situations before with telepaths before her coming for the study. Somehow, it all worked out. Sookie Stackhouse was no longer a barmaid, but a student, and a work study aid. Her evenings were no longer spent taking orders, shuffling beers and food, and blocking out horrendously dirty thoughts never meant to see the light of day. They now belonged to studying for the general education classes she'd enrolled in her first semester, writing papers, shuffling files and entering data for Henrik and Dr. Ibsen, nights out on the town, or curling up at home with a book. All of the above she found **_entirely_** agreeable.

Thoughts shifted to Henrik as she neared her destination--she was meeting him for a coffee at a café down the street from her little apartment. Perhaps surprisingly, they'd agreed to behave themselves since her return, deciding it would be for the best, as she was a student now and an assistant, to keep their relationship within the bounds of friendship. Most of the time they even managed to adhere to the agreement. Sookie's smile widened just a bit more at the thought of the couple times they'd fallen off the friendship boat to happily drown in the waters of passion.

The first time had been his birthday--wine was involved, perhaps too much of it. Usually he was such a gentle soul, so very conscious of his strength and size compared to hers. Where Sookie had always been averted from men by their dirty thoughts, Henrik found the most common speculation from the opposite sex about him ran to his endowments, the talents of his large hands and other things. It was a nuisance at worst, amusing for him at best. Sookie had found out the gentle giant could also be a wild lover when caution was thrown to the wind. She'd found out three times, to be exact, and every instance left her fulfilled and gasping, albeit delightfully sore.

And then there had been the weekend at his parents' cabin up north, where they skied and made love and lounged in the sauna, lying opposite of each other on the tiers, holding hands. They had cuddled under a blanket naked on the couch, a roaring fire crackling, reading Orhan Pamuk's Snow as the precipitation in question fell in fat fluffy flakes outside the window. The beauty of that particular little getaway still caused Sookie's heart to ache, made her wish she had a whole heart to give.

For even though she'd left him, Sookie knew a great deal of her heart still belonged to the Viking back in Louisiana. She still had a feeling Eric wouldn't let her slip through his fingers so easily. Go down without a fight. Henrik sensed these remaining feelings for her vampire, knew it from stray thoughts he caught through her ever-improving shields. If it angered him, he did not let on. He did not seem to have the possessive streak Eric did, and besides, what was there to complain about?

Sookie was in Sweden with **_him_**, after all.

The telepath did dream of Eric, more and more as time went on. As she was certain the bond had worn off, she could only deduce that the torrid scenes that played behind her sleeping eyes were products of her own imagination and longing. At first she'd been angry, and so certain Eric did it on purpose, invading the sanctuary of her sleep from across the wide ocean that separated them.

But as time went on she came to be convinced of his innocence, chiding herself for jumping to accuse him over such a thing. A pleasant thing, really--eventually she came to cherish that time with Eric in her dreams. It was safe, and freeing--for an hour or so she was free to have him anyway she wished, or he her. He could pillage her perfectly and she was free to not pretend she didn't like it. There would be no repercussions in the end, no egos to ruin everything once their passion had burned its fuse. She suspected she would have to face him again someday, but for now, dreams were about all she could handle.

Lost in her thoughts, Sookie barely noticed the figure that stood in the middle of the sidewalk ahead of her, and she nearly ran into him. "_Förlåt!_" she apologized, stopping short of a collision, making to duck around him. But then it struck her that she received no reading from him; his mind only registered as a blank space, the way vampires do, and she immediately stepped back, looking up.

He towered over her, but everyone did in this country. His green eyes glittered amusedly, pale skin glowed like carved alabaster, and waves of fiery red hair fell nearly to his shoulders. He seemed vaguely familiar, though Sookie couldn't place him, and didn't think they'd ever met before.

Expectedly, Sookie took a step back, and waited. There were people milling around them, and vampires were legal and fairly well behaved (at least in public) in this country. She didn't think she had anything to fear.

Though, she had been wrong before.

His smile widened as he sensed her heart begin to pound with the first inklings of fear. "Please, Ms. Stackhouse, I mean you no harm," he assured her in perfect English.

"Forgive me, but I've heard that one before."

The vampire shrugged. "I only wanted to meet you. I've been keeping an eye on you for some time." Sookie's eyebrows raised with alarm, only causing the vampire to laugh good naturedly. "I am a friend of Eric's," he elaborated.

Sookie's eyes narrowed--not exactly the reaction he expected. "He has you spying on me?"

"No, not at all," the tall vampire defended. "Only, looking out for you. I hear you were in quite a pot of trouble back home?"

Reluctantly, Sookie nodded, and jumped slightly as he extended his arm towards her. But she relaxed, much to his apparent amusement, when she noticed he only meant to extend to her a card. "My name is Viggo. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call."

Sookie glanced at the card. It was simple, clean white, with just a number printed upon it. As she studied it a connection with his name dawned upon her. "Oh my god. You're the Viggo. You're the king of Sweden." Well, Sweden's vampires, but in her shock Sookie did not mince words. He was something of a celebrity, handsome and articulate, a poster boy for the great revelation in Europe. Newspapers and tabloids alike followed his various appearances in public.

With a wide smile, the redhead made a sweeping bow. "At your service, m'lady. You are every bit as lovely as Eric claimed."

Sookie found her ears burning with a blush, and decided it would perhaps be best to make some semblance of a bow of her own. But she was born and raised American, where handshakes reigned as the chief gesture of a respectful greeting. So she stumbled through something between a bob and a curtsy, only causing the vampire to laugh a little. His manner reminded her a bit of Eric. "How do you know him?" she asked, and him could only refer to the tall blond vampire she'd left behind.

"We met on a battlefield, several hundred years ago," Viggo imparted quietly. "He is my maker."

Sookie found her mouth hanging open just a bit with surprise, but hearing Gran's voice in her head scolding her to remember her manners, promptly clamped it shut once more. "I see," was all she could manage for a few excruciating long moments. Finally, she got up the courage to ask: "Is Eric.. .is he mad at me?"

Viggo inclined his head, suddenly curious. "I do not know," he confessed. "That is between the two of you--but he cares enough still to have contacted me about you. I mean it, about calling that number," he insisted. "I will not tolerate Sophie-Anne's meddling in my lands."

Sookie nodded. It seemed no one had come after her yet, but then again, she hadn't noticed any cronies of Viggo's watching her, either. "Thank you," she said graciously, bowing her head in a gesture of respect. By the time she looked up again, the vampire had disappeared.

**A/N: So, I did some cursory research, but I've probably taken outlandish liberties with visas and the probability of Sookie being accepted to Stockholm university, much less so soon after arriving, etcetera etcetera la-de-da. But for the sake of a fanfic, wasn't it worth it? Hope so! Thanks so much to everyone for reads and reviews!  
**


	14. The Club Loki Caper

**A/n: Song of the chapter? Lady's Gaga's **_**So Happy I Could Die. **_**Anyone but me insanely jealous of the **_**Papparazzi **_**video? Well, up until Mr. Skarsgard throws her off the balcony.. .bad Alex. **

**Chapter 13:**

"Who's ready to celebrate!?"

Henrik and Sookie looked up from their desks to see all five feet ten svelte inches of their friend Inga filling their doorway, hands on her shapely hips, and mouth cracked in a wide toothsome smile.

The semester had just ended, and they were making an attempt at finishing up some paperwork and data entry before having a go at a real winter vacation. Sookie couldn't believe she'd already finished a whole eighth of her higher education--it all flew by so quickly, and even went well. With her newly acquired powers of concentration, she turned out to be an excellent student, with dedication and drive to succeed.

Inga made to take a seat next to Sookie, crossing one long leg over the other, slinging an arm around her friend's shoulder. She was a student as well, and one of the warmest people Sookie had ever met. From the first, Sookie couldn't resist being drawn into her aura of kindness, and found she didn't mind in the least when made privy to the fact that Inga liked women just as much, and maybe more than, men.

"What are you so dressed up for?" asked Henrik, leaning back from his Mac, stretching long arms above his head. Sookie's gaze unabashedly traveled over his chest as he stretched, and Inga giggled at Sookie's less than subtle lust. Henrik, though, seemed completely oblivious to the effect he had on her, removing his glasses to rub his eyes.

Inga was apart of Henrik's studies of paracognitive abilities, not as a telepath, but an empath. Very few true feelings went unnoticed around her. To Sookie's surprise, she did not receive many thoughts from her, but feelings, particularly when she touched. In a way she wondered if she was not becoming addicted to Inga's soothing touch, for she always felt loved absolutely and unconditionally in the tall woman's embrace.

"Why _aren't _you two dressed up?" Inga countered mischievously. "We're going out dancing."

Sookie and Henrik exchanged amused looks at Inga's declaration. Obviously, they had no say in the matter, though the thought _did _appeal to Sookie after staring at a computer screen for hours on end. Almost simultaneously, they shrugged. "The great Inga has spoken," Henrik declared in submission, shutting his laptop.

**IIIIIII**

The night took them across town to several venues, but late night found them on the floor at _Loki_, one of the most thriving scenes in the city. Sookie found it ever so appropriate that the owners would name their establishment of festivity and drink after the great Norse trickster.

Sookie loved to dance, and shaking her stuff between the towers that were Inga and Henrik was not a bad way to blow off the steam of the now finished semester. It was the best of both worlds, Henrik's athletic build a security at her back, and the comfort of Inga's soft curves in front. She allowed herself to let go, the throbbing pulse of the music permeating her bones, dictating her internal rhythm. No thinking, just feeling, standing in a sandwich of blessed blankness between Inga and Henrik. She felt proud in a way, that the three of them could control their abilities enough to enjoy themselves in a throng of people.

In need of a break, the trio made their way to a table, nursing their drinks and staring out at the crowd. A cursory scan, for pure curiosity's sake, revealed many thoughts about sex to Sookie that more amused than unsettled her at that point in her life, and interestingly enough, many blank spots that signified vampires in the crowd. She took it in stride and thought nothing of it. Vampires were legal and accepted across Scandinavia; there were no militant hate groups like the Fellowship of the Sun. Naturally there were some that disapproved, but they had yet to organize like the zealots of America's rightwing conservative Christians.

Relaxing in the booth, Sookie leaned back against Inga, taking comfort in her warmth and sweet perfume. Her thoughts came simply to her, perhaps with the help of the two gin and tonics she'd consumed. Warm. Happy. Safe. Soft skin.

Very good.

All this shattered as two vampires in dark suits approached their booth, faces pale as the moon, expressionless as carved stone. "Sookie Stackhouse?" one asked in heavily accented English.

Warily, Sookie sat up, inclining her head in acknowledgement. Inga's hand tightened upon hers, sending a much appreciated wave of calm through her system. "His majesty, King Viggo requests your presence in the loft."

The three humans simultaneously turned their attention up to the highest level of the club, the exclusive balcony where the V.I.P.s played. "You know King Viggo?" Henrik asked, obviously surprised. He'd thought she was staying out of vampire politics, given her second chance at a life free of their manipulation.

"We've met, briefly," Sookie explained, reluctantly standing. It would be unforgivably rude to refuse Viggo--Sookie knew she at least had to hear him out. "I'll be right back."

Henrik too stood from the booth, obviously ruffling the vampires sent to collect Sookie. "Let me go with you," he near demanded. It caused her to pause; he'd never displayed any macho tendencies before, urges to protect her from the world, and the thought of him protecting her in a room full of vampires seemed absurd besides. Yes, flaunting Eric's rival before his obviously loyal child Viggo did not seem like her finest idea.

"No, Henrik, stay here. I'll be fine, I swear."

Henrik looked uneasily to the vampires in black, clearly conveying he did not trust them, or believe her.

"You are so certain? We can leave, they cannot stop us."

Sookie smiled gently at Henrik's naivety; it reminded her of how little experience her doctor had with the real supe world. It would be easier, _much easier_, she knew, to take ten minutes to see what Viggo wanted, rather than be rude. "He's a.. .friend of Eric's, Henrik. It'll be ok."

She clasped his hand in assurance, throwing a watered down smile over her shoulder as she followed the vampires away from the booth. Henrik watched them go, a whole novel of apprehension written between his furrowed brows, and Inga not far behind him.

Sookie climbed the stairs to the loft, lowering her shields in hope of catching something helpful now. The upper tier was lavishly appointed with designer furniture, expensive paintings, and littered with the fanged ones. As her powers grew, it seemed vampire thoughts popped into her head more and more frequently, such as Bill's unintentional revelation. A damning ability, but one she had no intention of ever revealing to any vampire.

Soon she stood before the carrot-topped King, and as his narrowed emerald gaze leveled to upon her, her spirits sank to the floor. Viggo obviously was not pleased with her, and she wasn't sure why. He let her fidget as he sat in vampire stillness, waiting. But Sookie knew not for what, so she kept her mouth shut. She knew this game all too well.

"Well, Sookie, you seem to be having quite a celebration this night," he finally broke the silence, but not the tension.

The telepath looked from side to side, confused as to why that could irk him. "Yes, the semester just ended.. .And you too, I see, are having a good time?"

Once more, a pregnant moment.

"This club belongs to me, I hold court here. But what is your excuse, I wonder?"

Sookie felt completely bewildered. She'd missed a scene in the movie, committed some grand faux pas without even knowing. "I obviously have angered you, Your Majesty," she said carefully, polite as all hell. "But I know not what I have done. What has happened?"

"Don't be coy."

Sookie remained silent, uncertain. She knew not what to do, that wouldn't dig her in a deeper hole.

A strange expression crossed Viggo's features, causing him to sit up straighter, dislodging the attractive fangbanger brunette who lounged at his side. "Could it be that you really don't know?"

The first inklings of fear trickled into Sookie's heart. She had a bad feeling.

A _very _bad feeling.

"Know what?" she asked quietly.

Viggo paused once more, inspecting her, gauging the truth of her reaction. He waited long enough to speak that Sookie wanted to shake him, shout _tell me! _Because there was only one common link between them, one vampire who interested them both acutely.

Finally, he let fly.

"Fangtasia was bombed in the wee hours of the morning, yesterday, Sookie."

White noise and a hollow ringing suddenly penetrated Sookie's hearing. Her perception of the room narrowed, darkened, and her knees wobbled beneath her. She found herself deposited in a chair, and she cradled her head in her hands, panic overcoming her in a powerful wave of emotion. "And Eric?" she asked quietly.

Viggo's answer seemed to come from far away, as though spoken from the end of a tunnel. "I have tried to contact him in vain; there has been no word. Remains of vampires were found inside, but nothing identifiable."

Sookie felt queasy, and took a deep breath, hoping oxygen would prevent her from puking on the floor of King Viggo's court. Instead her fears found outlet in the hot tears that welled at the corners of her eyes.

"Who?" she croaked. "Do they know who is responsible?"

"Your American Fellowship of the Sun has claimed responsibility."

"They aren't _mine_," she immediately growled. The king let it slide in her moment of duress. Sookie looked up from her lap, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I have to go home. I have to find him." She stood from her seat, but Viggo immediately stood to clasp her shoulders, a human gesture that seemed to surprise his entourage.

"No, Sookie. If Eric is gone, then your safety is in my hands now. It is my duty to him. I will continue inquiries, and I will keep you updated." Unhappily, she nodded. "Go home," Viggo urged. "Get some rest. If we know anything of Eric, he is a survivor, yes?"

Sookie swallowed her sobs, gathering her composure. "Yes, of course," she agreed reluctantly.

She found her own way back down to the booth, to face Henrik and Inga's worried expressions. "Can we go home now?" she asked sadly. She had a feeling she was on the verge of breaking, and wanted to be in her own bed when the shock wore off, and it all came crashing down.

**IIIII**

Once having seen Sookie back safely to her apartment, Henrik and Inga both lingered. "What can we do for you?" Inga asked. What a red letter night. Sookie explained what Viggo had revealed to her on the walk home.

Sookie looked around her dinky apartment, feeling suddenly and impossibly empty inside. "Please don't leave me alone?" she found herself requesting, in a faraway voice that barely felt her own.

Her friends nodded, and Sookie turned on her heel, moving like a possessed woman, shedding her clothes. In just her underwear she curled under the covers, and following her lead, Henrik and Inga soon did the same on either side of her. "Don't worry, Sookie," said Inga, brushing a lock of hair from her face. She clasped Sookie's hand in hers. Sookie's lip trembled but she nodded, relieved in a way to have Inga's special brand of calm wash over her.

"He hasn't lived a thousand years just to be blown up by zealots," Henrik assured her, wrapping his long body around hers. "It'll turn out." Sookie pulled his arm closer with her free hand, wrapping her fingers in his, hoping he was right. He felt very similar to Eric in build, curled behind her; if she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend, but for the heartbeat and body warmth.

Is that what she'd been doing all along, she wondered? Pretending? Pretending she could live without the vampire, all the while laying in wait for him to come for her? Now that it was possible he was gone, gone to meet his true and final death, Sookie's heart was filled to the brim with regret. She realized that it had never occurred to her that she and Eric's time could be limited. Time seemed to be the only thing a vampire truly ever had.

Oh, but it wasn't so simple as that, was it, she reminded herself. Because Eric had been good to her, but he'd also scared the bejeezus out of her. He was clever and masterful and possessive; he was ancient, nearly too ancient for her to understand sometimes. It wasn't so simple as that, because she truly cared for the human man who spooned her, the man who comforted her, whispered so selflessly in her ear that his rival surely wasn't dead. She couldn't read him, didn't know if his mind was filled with thoughts of _good riddance_. Somehow she doubted it. Somehow, Henrik seemed too good to be true.

"Sleep, Sookie," Inga urged her, stroking her hair. "There will be answers tomorrow."

Sookie didn't need much more urging than that, and soon slipped into a deep but fitful sleep.

She dreamed.

In the arms of two humans who she had grown to love, who had taken her under wing and come to love her in return, still she dreamed of Eric.

* * *

**A/N: Dun dun dun…Could the Fellowship have really pulled it off, or perhaps it was a certain meddling queen hot to teach her sheriff a lesson? Stay tuned! And feedback is always **_**greatly **_**appreciated! ;)**


	15. Who Could?

**A/N: Many of you have asked wouldn't Viggo know if Eric was dead through the bond? Well, for the purposes of the story…I guess not. Lol. Thank you everyone!!**

**Chapter 14: Who Could?**

_Somewhere in the darkness, waves crashed against the shore, filling the night's shadows with the sound of the steady rhythm of the sea. A driftwood fire crackled, sending embers dancing through the air. She did not know these shores, and wondered if they existed somewhere in the world._

_ Sookie sat upon the sand near the fire, a pair of arms she knew so well encircling her, strong thighs and a trim torso cradling her small body. They rocked gently to the sound of the waves, and Ulf sat vigilant at the edge of the fire, a loyal sentry with a profile nearly that of a wolf. The sea breeze, cool and salty, stirred their hair and sent the fire to dance before them. _

_ Sookie leaned back into her vampire, rubbing her cheek against his jaw like a cat. "What's happened, Eric?" she asked cautiously, so afraid. It seemed all her bravery had been sucked from her for the night, at the imparting of Viggo's news. _

_ Eric did not answer her, brushing her hair aside. He planted cool lips to the nape of her neck, sending a chill down her spine. Perhaps in previous dreams Eric had been a living breathing man, but that night there was no strong heartbeat thrumming at her back, no warmth of his own to lend her. _

_ It did not bode well to Sookie. _

_ Large hands moved to smooth over her shoulders and arms, but still provided no warmth. Still, Sookie craved his touch, some token of assurance. With an arm around her ribcage he pulled her against him, a thumb reaching up to graze her nipple, pulling a sigh from her lips. She could feel the growing stiffness between his legs rubbing against her back, and she found she craved to have him inside her, to have anything of him he would give. _

_ "Where are you?" she asked once more, but still, Eric would give no answer. His skilled touch lit a fire beneath her skin, within her loins, and when his hand slid along her stomach to delve within her skirts she sighed with appreciation and acceptance, leaning back against him. His hand engulfed her breast, squeezing gently as he pulled her against him. Clever fingers traveled along her center to find the moisture and heat between her legs, all for him. Eric groaned with appreciation as he slipped a finger inside her, curling it against a particular place that caused her to writhe. _

_ As her hips rocked against his hand he brought her nearly to the edge, a shining brightness rimming her vision. "Eric!" she pleaded, fingers laced with his holding on for dear life. _

_ He chuckled in her ear, a deep and throaty sound that vibrated against her back, and finally he spoke against the skin of her neck, planting a wet kiss upon her pulse. "My little Valkyrie," he sighed. "Who could ever love you, as I would have?"_

Sookie awoke with a start, a cry caught in her throat, gripping the fingers laced in hers. The hand was large but warm, and not the one she craved at that moment. Not the one she needed to assuage her fears. The sleeping bodies on either side of her moved closer, as though even in their slumber her friends sensed her wakeful sorrow, and sought to calm it.

Restless, Sookie tossed in the warm nest of covers and flesh. _He can't be dead_, she chanted in her thoughts. _He wouldn't let the Fellowship outsmart him_. But what of Sophie-Anne, or countless other enemies the Viking had accumulated over the years? Sookie had a feeling an axe hovered above their heads. She had a feeling this was only the beginning. But she did not worry for her own safety at the moment, only hoped, wished, prayed and bargained to any deity that might have been listening, that Eric and Pam made it out of the blast alive. Were no where near when it exploded Fangtasia to little bits.

Perhaps Viggo had promised her answers soon, but Sookie feared the waiting would drive her mad.


	16. When The Dust Settles

**Chapter 15: When The Dust Settles**

"Sookie, you need to get up."

Sookie groaned in protest, pushing away the hands that sought to divest her of the covers, and pull her from bed. She couldn't bear the thought of going anywhere at that moment, facing the outside world.

"Can't," she grumbled, rolling over.

"You've been holed up in this apartment for a week. This isn't healthy."

Viggo had not delivered the news he promised.

Henrik gazed upon Sookie's sad blue eyes, shaded with grief and guilt. She'd lost no time in blaming herself for Eric's disappearance. What if she'd stuck around? What if she could have read the right mind at Fangtasia, and prevented the bomb? The telepath went to a very dark place within herself, rife with self loathing.

"You have to stop this blaming of yourself, darling. There's nothing you could have done."

New tears welled in Sookie's eyes, and she rolled to bury her face in her pillow. Henrik had witnessed her crying quite enough that week. She was tired of sympathetic eyes upon her personal grief. "What if I could have caught them?" she protested. "I could have stopped it from happening. I could have warned him. I.. ."

Henrik sat upon the bed, turning Sookie to face him. With gentle fingers he brushed her hair from her face, placing one long finger over her lips to cease her rambling. "Useless speculation. You have been neglecting yourself. When was the last time you ate?"

She couldn't remember, and he could see as such. He imagined he could count her ribs had he cared to try. And though the thought of sliding his hands against her bare skin always appealed to him, now was not the time. Her cheeks were slightly sunken, eyes red from weeping. "Come on, Sookie. Let me cook something for you. A warm bath and some food will do you good. Maybe even a walk."

"I can't," she whined stubbornly. Henrik leaned over her, planting gentle kisses upon her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her pert little nose, and finally her lips. She was so soft, so sweet. Perhaps in a dark corner of his soul, a place he would never acknowledge, Henrik did hope the vampire to be gone forever. It was difficult to console her for the love of another man, when more and more lately he was finding he wanted her for himself. But for the moment he forced himself to rise above. First, he would help her. He was a doctor first and foremost, and he took his oath seriously.

"You cannot let yourself waste away, dear one. If he's alive, what would he think of you, rotting in bed like this? And if he's not, then you will have to move on. Either way, let me take care of you tonight."

Reluctantly, she agreed, sitting up on elbows. One step at a time, she would get through. She would get up. She would take a shower. She would eat. And if Viggo found nothing, she decided she would go searching for Eric herself, even if it meant re-entering Sophie-Anne's territory.

**IIIIII**

A heavy snow fluttered to the ground as Sookie walked the streets of Stockholm with Henrik. He slowed his long legged gait to suit her, pleased to see her up and about. Though with a dark expression she brooded, it was good to see her walking.

"You mustn't lose heart, Sookie," he attempted to soothe her. "Surely once the dust settles, something will turn up, if this Eric of yours is even half as formidable as you claim?"

Sookie turned her gaze up to the handsome doctor. He wore a wool hat atop his blond head, and his nose was a bit red from the cold. So human. Something she appreciated and feared--he was a fragile being, to get mixed up in the dangers that courted her.

But of course, so was she.

A few days' scruff dusted his cheeks, obscuring his features ever so slightly. At moments like this in the dark, out the corner of her eye, Sookie could almost mistake him for Eric. It made her wonder.

"Eric is quite capable," Sookie acknowledged, kicking a tuft of snow from the sidewalk. "Clever, strong. Ruthless. But there is a heaviness in my heart, a dread that just maybe someone got lucky, and got the best of him. Sophie-Anne isn't--"

Henrik's hand upon her arm brought Sookie to stillness, and she looked up to find him peering into the shadows ahead, brow slightly furrowed. None too subtly, Henrik slowly moved in front of her, and Sookie peered around him, in the direction his suspicious blue eyes fixated upon.

Just barely she could make out a figure in the distance, a shadow among the falling snow. In light of recent events, her hair stood on end, a sudden foreboding for what could lie ahead, that their human eyes couldn't quite make out. Should they run? Would it do any good?

Slowly, a form emerged through the swirling snow, a towering figure clad in black. Sookie's stomach clenched--at first with fear, for it definitely was _not _human. He was large, tall, broad shoulders, entirely intimidating.

But then, as he neared closer, and stopped a few meters away, standing still as a statue in the biting winter cold, there was recognition. Sookie stepped around Henrik, peering closer, an inkling of hope trickling into her veins, swelling in her heart.

Yes, recognition.

Like a racehorse bolting at the firing of the gun, Sookie ran forward, springing to wrap arms around his neck. With ease he folded her in his embrace, holding her light body a foot off the ground in their excitement. She laughed and sobbed into the fine fabric of his black scarf, burying her nose into the scent of his skin. "Eric, I thought the worst!" she cried. "How dare you? Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

Eric did not point out her hypocrisy, scold her for running away not once but _twice_; he only smiled against the warmth behind her ear. His lips spread in an even wider smile as he drew back ever so slightly, taking a long look at how Sweden had treated Sookie.

He seemed pleased.

Large hands cupped the sides of her face as he studied her, thumbs moving to brush away her tears before they could freeze upon her skin. "What happened?" she demanded.

Instead of answering, Eric ducked to claim her mouth in a torrid kiss, holding her to him with a hand at the base of her skull, fingers fisting her long blond hair. Sookie's knees threatened to buckle under the passion of his kiss, and as though he sensed it the vampire wrapped an arm about her waist, pulling her close once more. It was only as Sookie surfaced for air, tracing his features reverently with cold fingers, that he spoke. Kissing the palm of her hand, and the tips of her fingers, he whispered, "We are free now, lover. The night is ours."

A joyous laugh crossed with a sob escaped Sookie, and as she embraced Eric once more he stared over the top of her head, taking in the rival who watched them with eyes of a nearly matching blue. Eyes narrowed; it was not a friendly look they shared, as one can well imagine.

The doctor did not anticipate the jealousy and pain that welled within him. He knew this moment to be inevitable; of course the vampire would come for her, if he survived. They shared something, _something_, beyond the normal relationship between vampires and humans, as food and bedmates. Perhaps it was even love. Though he knew he too loved Sookie, for she was a very special woman, he'd tried his best not to expect more than what she could give. To take joy in the beautiful moments they shared as they came, without making demands upon her. It was easy at first. It's always easy in the beginning.

But watching her melt into Eric's arms, a great sadness bloomed within the doctor, gripping his heart. Until that moment he hadn't realized how far he'd fallen for his fellow telepath. And as an unspoken challenge passed between he and the vampire, conveyed by piercing eyes, Henrik feared he stood on the losing end. That he was an intruder on something beautiful, something sacred, and maybe he always had been.

* * *

**A/n: So… feel better now? I haven't replied to many reviews because I didn't want to give anything away, but thank you everyone for your wonderful feedback! You pretty much sustain me. Yes, its that bad… :)**


	17. His Fearful Symmetry

**Chapter 16: His Fearful Symmetry**

With Sookie's eager invitation, Eric crossed the threshold of her miniscule apartment, taking in everything with a critical eye. It was a student's space, simple and not costly; there was no doubt about that. Though perhaps he could see how it would have a certain charm for her, he couldn't believe she'd chosen this over living in lavish comfort with him.

Well, it didn't matter now, he tried to remind himself. They could put it all behind them now. _Everything_. He'd made a clean break, and he was free to do as he pleased now, for quite some time. Free from vampire politics. The king was his child, and would let him do as he would.

Eric smiled to himself, thinking back on their meeting in the snow. The pathetic way the doctor had shielded Sookie, as though he could have done a thing had Eric meant them harm. It was the doctor he wanted to tear to pieces in a fit of jealous rage, not Sookie, at any rate. Sookie, perhaps, deserved a good spanking though.. .

But he'd behaved himself magnificently, winning points as they say, in Sookie's eyes, by being hospitable. He even shook the man's hand, for Gods' sakes, when Sookie introduced them, and the doctor offered it in an awkward gesture of human civility. Alright, maybe he'd allowed himself a little bit of fun. Henrik had visibly paled, when Eric handed Sookie a small gift box from his pocket.

"Something for you, Lover," he'd said, as the three of them hovered in the heavily falling snow. "I keep my word, when I give it." Cautiously, Sookie took the little velvet black box, a hairline of worry written between her brows. Uncertainly she threw a look up to Eric, but the vampire gestured for her to open it in front of her doctor friend.

He wanted Henrik to see it too. He wanted the doctor to know _exactly _what he was capable of doing.

As she flipped open the top, a gasp escaped her, and she almost dropped the gift in her surprise.

Sitting daintily upon the pillow inside, was a pair of yellowed fangs, pulled out at the root, and Sookie knew exactly to whom they belonged. Perhaps it was morbid, but a feeling of triumph curled in her stomach. She tried to imagine Bill Compton give a vampire smile with two big black gaps in his maw, and the thought brought her a cold pleasure.

Eyebrows raised high, Henrik viewed the gift. He too had an idea of what they were, and whose. "Are those what I think they are?" he asked quietly.

"Perhaps," answered Eric, enigmatic.

"If they are, then their owner has received at least a fraction of the punishment he deserves."  
"You do not find it barbaric?" asked Eric, obviously toying with him. "Things have taken quite a turn for the civilized here, since I was born. Sweden has gone soft, since my day."

Henrik shook his head sadly. He would not apologize for the bounds Sweden had made since the dark ages, but there was still a darkness within him he could not quite conquer, at the thought of punishments fit for Sookie's attacker. It disturbed him in a way, but he chalked it off to human nature. He admitted, "We do not condone the death penalty here, but frankly, I hope you killed him."

Eric's lips curled in a smug smile, but he admitted to nothing. He looked to Sookie, curious of her opinion. She'd gone quiet, shutting the box, palming it in her hand. She did not fling it off into the darkness, which he found to be a good sign. "Maybe I'll make them into earrings," she said quietly, slipping the box into her pocket.

There was a slight awkwardness after that, the three figures on the snowy sidewalk, unsure of who would stay and who would go. Before Sookie could invite Henrik to stay, and Eric order him to go away, the doctor bowed out, sensing a voluntary exit the best course for the evening. "Well, I suppose you two have some catching up to do," he said, nearly mourned, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of Sookie's hand before turning to walk in the opposite direction.

A low growl trickled from the corner of Eric's mouth at the sight of the kiss, but Sookie perhaps unwisely ignored it. Suddenly the sight of Henrik's quickly retreating form filled her with fear and uncertainty; he was a healer, not a fighter. Amidst the confusion and indecision of which Swede she would chose, a seemingly impossible choice, she wondered if she'd already lost him.

"Henrik…" she called, desperate to see if he would acknowledge her any longer.

But he turned to the sound of her voice as a flower follows the rays of the sun. He paid her a reassuring smile, even as the vampire towered behind her with a hand on her waist, a particularly threatening expression upon his model-handsome features. "_Morgondag_," Henrik assured her.

_Tomorrow._

Briefly, his eyes met Eric's once again. No, he wasn't giving up quite yet. Not by a long shot.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," grumbled Eric, faintly, just loud enough for Sookie's human's ears to register.

Now alone with the vampire, Sookie turned, and almost to his surprise she clasped his large hand in hers. "It's cold out here. Want to see my new apartment?" she asked, nodding her head in the respective direction.

"Yes," accepted Eric. "We have much to discuss, you and I."

Though there were answers she craved, Sookie wasn't particularly looking forward to their talk. She had an urge to see just how long she could distract Eric from speaking, part for the sake of putting off their talk, and part for just the sake of intimacy--but either way, she knew she would only be postponing the inevitable.

As soon as Sookie closed the door behind Eric, the vampire had her in his arms, pressed against the door. He stole her breath with a searing kiss, his mouth making it clear the he meant to claim her that night. His strong hands went to the backs of her thighs, lifting her so that they were almost eye to eye, her legs wrapped about his trim waist. "How dare _you_," he countered her first exclamation at the sight of him, grinding into her.

Sookie had the audacity to smile, and somehow he adored her for it. Who else would have had the courage? Her ability to stand up to him had been one of the reasons he'd wanted her all along. However, unfortunately when she ran out of courage to face him, she had a way of running for the hills with panache.

"So I take it you aren't angry with me.. ."

"Oh, I was. I was furious with you. I was a hair away from finding you and dragging you back home immediately."

"And why didn't you?"

The vampire nibbled along the line of her jaw, causing her to sigh. "Because I realized you needed time. And what do I have, if not time? Besides, I knew where you were headed, and trusted Viggo to keep you safe in my stead."

"Viggo, Viggo. That child of yours promised to contact me with first news of your wellbeing. Has he been keeping it from me this whole week?"

Eric grinned, as good as a yes. "I wanted to surprise you."

"You _both_ are devious bastards."

"Indeed."

"Yet, I'm so happy you're alive," she sighed, kissing the tip of his nose in a gesture so tender it startled him. She wiggled, hoping to be let down, but consequently only spurred his desire to keep her there, of which he communicated with a growl from deep in his chest. He caught her lips in another wet kiss, nibbling upon her plump lower lip with distended fangs, but careful not to draw blood just yet.

"You really thought I would let the Fellowship of Fools get the better of me? Sookie, you wound me."

"I feared--irrationally, perhaps. What happened?"

Eric decided to let her down after all--it _was_ rather distracting, attempting to have a serious conversation, with her lovely thighs wrapped around him. No matter, he would be between her legs again in no time, he assured himself.

Eric removed his scarf and wool coat, revealing a designer shirt of Sookie's favorite shade of sky blue. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him; he had a way of ambushing her like that, with his unexpected beauty. All she wanted to do at that moment was run her hands over the smooth fabric upon his chest, but clenching her small fists, she resisted the urge.

"They played right into my hands," he explained. "As everyone eventually does." Sookie seemed to ignore his comment, removing her own coat and scarf to reveal a long red sweater that hugged her hips in the most delectable way, over tight dark blue jeans, and knee high Dansko boots the color of fresh espresso.

Eric could have devoured her on the spot.

"How so?" Sookie finally asked, eyes never leaving him as she took a seat on the couch. Oh, how she'd missed the majestic sight of him, his fearful symmetry. The way his presence filled the room, like a king, or a god.

_It's a good thing he can't read _my _thoughts_, she mused. _His ego is inflated enough already. _

"I had learned some time ago of their amateur intentions of bombing Fangtasia. So I helped them along, anonymously. Pam and I were long gone, by the time of the blast. So now, we are free of Sophie-Anne. For all she knows, we were blown to bits."

Eric's lips curled smugly.

"You think she won't find you here?"

"She will eventually." Eric paused, fingering a sketchbook upon Sookie's counter. It belonged to Inga, and Sookie blushed at the thought of its contents, twitching with the urge to bolt over and snatch it from Eric's curious fingers. "But I will be ready for her. We have bought some time, some distance. She no longer has a home field advantage, as it were." Eric flipped through the sketchbook, and his eyebrows raised skyward at the drawings within, a hungry smile tugging the corner of his mouth. "Oh, my sneaky little Sookie, what have you been up to in my absence?"

At that Sookie did leave her seat, making an attempt for the sketchbook. But Eric promptly dwarfed her small hand under his, preventing her from turning the page upon which he gazed. It was a nude sketch of her upon her bed, on her back, torso twisted in a way that filled the page with an eye-catching composition, to say the least.

Inga was an student of the finer arts, a painter by major but proficient in many mediums, and after a night of wine and much goading Sookie had agreed to let Inga draw her. To Inga's chagrin, they passed out in Sookie's bed before she could continue the next stage of her seduction, but the mementos left behind Sookie felt certain would be cherished by art historians someday. Her empath friend possessed a gift for rendering the human figure, there was no doubt about it.

"One of my new friends, she's an artist," Sookie begged off.

Eric's grin only widened. "Can I have this?"

"No!"

"Fine." Eric allowed her to snatch away the sketchbook, of which she promptly tucked away upon a quickly filling bookshelf. "Then you will introduce me to this woman, and I will commission her to paint me a magnificent rendering of your voluptuous body. I will hang it over our bed."

"_Our _bed?"

"Yes. Once you see how wonderful my house is, you will not want to live here anymore. I am certain of this."

Sookie cradled her eyes in her hands. How could this man be so impossible, yet so irresistible at the same time?

"Eric," she said gently. "I'm glad you're here. Truly. But I'm not going to drop everything and move in with you, now that you've arrived. This is my home. This is _my _space. I like it."

The vampire threw a cursory glance about the apartment, his disdain written clearly in his expression. "Why? It is a cubicle. It doesn't even have the charm of your old house, which was also falling apart at the seams."

Crooking a finger to the vampire, Sookie offered, "I'll show you a room that you'll like."

Curious, he found himself following her into the bedroom. She spread herself out on the bed, propping her head on her hand, and patted the other side in invitation. Happily, Eric lay down beside her, leaning over her. "I smell two other bodies that have been in your bed. Your doctor, and another. A female."

"Inga," Sookie fessed immediately, unabashedly. "The artist."

"At the same time?" asked Eric, raising eyebrows at her.

Sookie laughed at his surprise. "Yes, but it's not what you think. They stayed with me, the night Viggo told me you might be _dead_."

"Mmm, I see." Eric leaned down to nuzzle her neck, planting a kiss upon her pulse. "You were overcome with grief, thinking I met my final death?" he whispered against her skin, all too pleased with himself. His hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt, palming her hip as he pulled her closer. His thumb traced the arch and dip of her pelvis, delving just a little into her waistband. Sookie sighed at his attentions. God, how she'd missed this. "Did you cry for me, Sookie?"

"Eric…"

"Did you? Did you suddenly question the point of all your efforts to run from me, when it seemed I would no longer come for you?"

It was almost too close to home.

"I was running from the queen," she defended, weakly.

Meanwhile, Eric's hand moved north along her ribcage, tracing the swell of her breast with a thumb. A deft flick of fingers at her spine quickly unsnapped her bra, and with the vampire's experienced lips upon her Sookie fought through the fog of her desire.

"That's enough, Eric!" she protested, even as her hands convulsed around the toned muscles of his arms and back. Her back bowing at his cupping of her breast, did not make for a solid message in the least.

"No," he insisted. "Tell me of your grief for me, Sookie." He snapped open the top button on her jeans, long fingers sliding inside her panties. Ah, _there_ was the warmth he sought, that secret moisture he craved, that pooled just for him, so _very_ quickly. He caressed her with one finger, tearing a ragged sigh from her lips.

"Eric, please.. ." she cried, not sure if she was begging him to cease, or to never stop touching her.

"Tell me how you missed me," he demanded with a smile, slipping one finger inside her. He circled his thumb around that most sacred nub, drawing a wanton sound from deep in her throat, that caused him to ache to be inside her. "Tell me how you came to realize you can't live without me."

"Eric, that's not fair!" she cried, spine bowing against him.

"Very well. Don't then."

Suddenly he withdrew his hand, leaving her panting and unfulfilled. She dug her nails into his shoulder, drawing in a shaky deep breath. She would not give in. But surrounded by his body, his piercing gaze boring into her, she wanted to confess everything, _and_ give him the kitchen sink. Seeking to regain some sanity, she buried her face in his chest, certain he wouldn't let her leave the bed.

"I dreamt of you," she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, her pulse still thundering in her ears. How did he do that to her body? He could push her from zero to sixty in under two seconds.

Not fair in the least.

"What kind of dreams?"

"Sometimes you were still human, sometimes not. Sometimes we just talked, and sometimes we made love."

Eric caressed her hair, hooking a finger under her chin to look into her eyes once more. His beautiful Sookie. Finally, she was in his arms once more. He had no intention of letting her slip away this time. "Come home with me," he requested, kissing her gently. "The night is young, and I want to make your dreams come true."

And though for once he kept his mouth shut, Eric _wouldn't _make love to Sookie in a bed that smelled of that god damned doctor, even if they'd only slumbered in her grief, as she claimed. For some _strange_ reason, he still had his doubts.

Sookie regarded him thoughtfully. Had he demanded it of her, she immediately would have refused. But there was a softness in his expression, something she'd never quite seen before on the vampire. It was an adoration so close to love that she knew she couldn't deny him.

Wouldn't deny him.

Wouldn't turn her back on him that night.

One word sealed it all. "Yes," she sighed, and with pleased rumble in his chest Eric kissed her, and scooped her from the offensive bed.

**A/N: Mmm boy, what could be next? Hehe. Thank you everyone for your outstanding support, you're the greatest! **


	18. Welcome Home

**Chapter 17: Welcome Home**

Bundled into her coat, Sookie waited on the curb, quietly contemplating the journey that had brought her there. It seemed so surreal, that Eric had finally arrived, and for once, it seemed they could be together, possibly in some peace.

The bass rumble of a powerful engine and the flash of headlights cut down the street, and Eric pulled up beside her in his newest toy. A black BMW M3. "Oh, this is inconspicuous," she said with rolled eyes, falling down into the passenger seat.

"More so than a red corvette," he said with a grin, not missing his old American sports car terribly. Though fun, it was not exactly built for a being of his leg length.

Without warning, Eric leaned across the car, capturing Sookie's mouth in a heated lip lock, the seatbelt frozen in her surprised grasp. "You like?"

Sookie wasn't sure if he meant the kiss or the car, but on either account she answered with a speechless nod, fidgeting slightly. One kiss, and the moisture had returned between her legs. Or maybe it was the thought of where they were going, and what Eric intended to do to her when they arrived.

Thinking along the same lines, Eric dropped the M3 in gear, and sped away into the night, car grumbling as a great beast charging. Sookie enjoyed the ride, the speed, the trust she felt in Eric and German engineering for him to drive like a madman without getting her killed. He could survive a wreck of any caliper, no doubt, but she didn't particularly relish a trip through the windshield.

"So what now, Eric?" asked Sookie. "Are you going to be Viggo's second?"

"There are those in Viggo's entourage who fear I will use him as my puppet," Eric explained, downshifting, and engulfing her small hand in his. The small light circles his thumb traced over her knuckles sent ripples of pleasure up her arm. "And Viggo has offered me power within his ranks. But I am not interested in the least, as it were. Power and station had its allure, and I found distraction in it for many years. But now, I wish to divert myself with other things."

Pointedly, his blue gaze turned to her, and Sookie's eyebrows shot sky high at the declaration.

"Eric, at heart _you are _a politician. You will be so bored!"

She had dreamed before of an Eric not caught up to his ears in political intrigue and power plays, but never did she think she would live to see him cut free of the mire.

"Are you so sure?"

No, she wasn't, and he could see it written plainly across her features.

"At heart, Sookie, I think what I desire most is some control over my own destiny. From being a chieftain, to being a sheriff and owning a lucrative bar in Shreveport allowed me that, to a point. But until that night in my office, when you lay upon me on the couch, I didn't realize that I'd grown bored with it. That I wanted other things."

"What other things?" she asked cautiously, and the vampire raised a skeptical eyebrow.

As though she didn't know.

"You said you couldn't let me give up those parts of myself for you, and yet I don't think you will have me, if I don't show I am willing to do as such for you. So here I am, shorn from politics, for you. It's you I want, Sookie. Can't you see?"

Sookie, for once, had no words.

So silently, she raised his hand to her lips, kissing it gently. It seemed a gesture of acceptance to him, and it would do, for now.

On the outskirts of Stockholm, Eric guided the M3 up a long driveway, a stone mansion perched upon a hill, surrounded by woods and an immense lawn. Even in the moonlight, Sookie could see that it was a magnificent building. The masonry on the outside smacked of a modern castle. She could only imagine what the inside would be like.

"Welcome h-to _my _home," Eric corrected himself. She would dwell with him here someday, he felt certain of it. But until then, he would not provoke her ire unnecessarily. There were so many other things he wanted to expend energy on that night, with her, and _within_ her. The thought sent a rush of blood to his groin, and in a flash he had her door open, offering a hand up like a true gentleman. But at that moment he didn't _feel _like a gentleman, because he felt like a caveman. All he could think was _this is it. Finally. I have her. _

She slid her little hand in his, allowing him to pull her up with a warm smile. "It's beautiful, Eric," she exclaimed, and squealed as he swept her up into his arms with a wolfish grin. "Just wait until you see the inside," he proclaimed, and made his way to the front door as though she weighed no more than a feather.

Once inside, he set her down on her feet once more, taking her coat, fingers caressing her shoulders as he slid the wool down her arms. With wide eyes she took in the interior, marveling at the great stone fireplace at the center of the living room, the raw wood beams of the high ceiling, the black leather furniture, the expert woodwork and sleek Scandinavian design. Hallways and staircases led off in both directions, plenty more than what met the eye, but Sookie had a feeling she would get to know it all eventually.

"Would you like something to eat, or drink, or some other mortal requirement I can't seem to think of at the moment?"

Like unwrapping a present, a present he'd desired for a _very _long time, he skillfully unwound the silk scarf from around her neck, drawing the fringe across her skin in a way that caused her to shiver with anticipation.

"No, thank you," she declined politely. And took him completely by surprise, no small feat, ambushing him with an agile leap. She crashed over him like a tidal wave, her legs wrapped around his torso, her lips upon his, fingers tangled in golden blond hair. One strong arm circling around her waist, the other beneath her buttocks, the vampire growled, "Good, because I don't think I would have the patience to wait."

Eric's mouth crashed over hers as he kicked off his shoes and padded down the hall, shouldering his way into the master bedroom. His need for her burned in his soul, consumed him from head to toe. How dare she make him wait so long? How dare she run away from him, _twice_, and make him chase her across an ocean to be with her?

He would have gone further, he knew. He would chase her to hell itself, if he had to.

Eric pulled away from their kiss, intense blue orbs boring into her own. And at that moment he decided it all to be worth it, for in them he read joy, and love, _so much_ love, even if she couldn't bring herself to say it just yet. For fear of his own reaction, he knew. But he wondered if she realized the bounds she'd made with him, the walls she'd torn down around his ancient heart. Could she even guess?

Setting her down on the king sized bed, leaning over her, the vampire took a deep breath, inhaling the heady scent of Sookie Stackhouse. Every fiber of his being burned for him to take her, to make her his once and for all, but he fought it with all his willpower. This was their first time, and he wanted to dazzle her, take her so thoroughly she couldn't be sure where she ended and he began.

"_Sookie_," he grumbled, going down on his knees before her. "Tell me you want this as badly as I."

With a beatific smile, the telepath leaned down, drawing her vampire into a passionate kiss. "I want this," she assured him. "I want _you._"

Smirking with approval, Eric lifted her booted foot, drawing the zipper down, suddenly moving maddeningly slow. He didn't know where he'd found the strength to draw it out, but he would run with it as long as it lasted. Sookie enjoyed the attentions he paid her, leaning back on elbows as he removed her boots and socks, strong fingers kneading into her feet, and sharp teeth nibbling at her toes. "That _tickles!" _she squealed, squirming away, but the vampire would have none of it.

"Ah ah," he scolded, tossing her to the center of the bed, his bodyweight suddenly pressing her down in the most delicious way. "There will be no escaping now. No more running."

She whimpered in response, raising to graze the column of his neck with her teeth. "_Off_," she mumbled, nimbly unfastening as many buttons of his shirt as she could reach. Sitting back up on his knees, Eric happily complied, ripping the rest in his need to feel his bare skin against hers. The sweater went next, and the vampire stared down at his little telepath below him, eyes hooded with desire. The crimson lace of her bra became her perfectly, but it didn't last long. He barely managed to restrain himself from ripping it from her, fingers flicking the clasp free. He drew the garment away, enamored by the view, breasts full and soft begging for lips upon them. She couldn't believe the things he could do with his mouth, the sensations he pulled from her with his tongue upon her nipple, his large hand cupping the other gently.

"I have a surprise for you, lover," he teased, unbuttoning her jeans, drawing them down her hips. The panties matched, sheer lace, and he groaned at the sight of what they barely covered.

The word _mine _floated through his mind, but he kept his teeth clamped over it. Some saying about teaching an old dog new tricks briefly flitted through his mind, but was quickly dashed by other more important matters at hand.

Leaning down to tongue her belly button, he moved south, sharp teeth making short work of one of the straps of her panties. Raising a mischievous blond eyebrow, her gaze flitted to his groin, the fabric of his trousers obviously stretched to their limits. But he shook his head _no_, and dragged back the top comforter to reveal the sky blue sheets below.

Sookie sighed happily, a smile in place. "You spoil me." She'd had a thought or two about replacing her own sheets with something of that color, but maybe it wouldn't be necessary. He had a bigger bed, after all.

"I will always spoil you," he declared matter of factly. The sound of more fabric ripping signaled the demise of the other side of her panties, and the vampire tossed them away to the floor. "Starting here." His tongue laved her slit, and Sookie's back bowed with the sudden spear of pleasure that shot through her.

"Dear God, Eric!"

"You wouldn't be the first to say so," he teased, tongue lavishing attention upon the pearl between her folds, as a long finger slid inside her. He continued to work her with skilled hands, as his mouth strayed to her inner thigh. The artery danced beneath her skin, inviting him to taste. Sookie floated on such a cloud of bliss, that she felt no pain as his fangs pierced the skin. He brought her achingly close to the edge of release, before pulling back, licking her sweet hot blood from his lips. She had trouble focusing her vision, the beginnings of stars still dancing before her eyes.

Sookie's trembling hands went to his belt, flicking open the buckle, drawing the zipper down to gain access to the bounty within. "Is this really going to fit?" she teased between kisses, squeezing his impressive girth appreciatively, tearing a groan from deep in his throat. Erik kicked his pants away with a chuckle, settling down upon her once more, now upon the cool blue sheets. He too was fond of the color, the effect, the view.

"Oh yes," he assured her. "Because you were made for me." He would have to be gentle at first, he knew, but she would never be satisfied with another after him. Of that he intended to be sure. Pushing dark thoughts of violence he wished to do to her doctor away, he rubbed against her thigh, nibbling at her neck and the sensitive skin of her earlobe. A muscled thigh slipped between her legs, making room, and she ground her hips against him, the heat and moisture from her sex driving him to distraction.

"So beautiful," he groaned, grinding against her outside. "So _warm_." He fisted a handful of flaxen hair, holding her mouth to his as he prepared to enter her. She cried out in his mouth as he began to slide inside, his girth stretching her, his length bumping against the entrance of her womb once fully sheathed inside. They lay completely still, and he let her have a moment to get accustomed to his size.

She kissed his neck, nuzzling there at the hollow. "Your skin is so cool to the touch," she sighed, nipping gently. "Yet you fill me with such _heat_, I can hardly stand it." And she began to move her hips against him, and it tore a primal sound from deep in his chest.

"_You_ are the one who warms my cold heart," insisted Eric, thrusting deeply. "You make me feel again, Sookie, and I'm both grateful and resentful for it."

Sookie's back bowed as he pushed inside her, filling her impossibly, she could feel him so _deep. _Everywhere. It was merely an echo of the vampire lover she'd had in Bill; Eric had perfected the art over centuries, of becoming one with a woman, of melding consciousness as much as flesh. He'd never bothered with the fangbangers, but he was determined to make his time with Sookie his masterpiece.

"There's no shame in having emotions," insisted Sookie between gasps. "There's no shame in _loving, _Eric."

"I'm not ashamed of anything," he insisted against her skin, grazing teeth over her breast. Were they really having this conversation _now?_

"Then you're afraid."

"Not anymore," he growled, and increased his pace, determined that if Sookie had wits about her enough to debate with him, then he wasn't _quite _doing his job. And speech quickly died out to the sound of loving bodies, grunts and moans and sighs of pleasure. Eric's lips curled as the signs of Sookie's release came to the fore.

Triumph.

Who else could make her feel this way? Draw these sounds from her? As the orgasm took her, a blinding rush of pleasure that sent colors and stars to dance before her vision, her back bowing and lifting them from the bed, her walls clenching around his shaft pushed him over the edge with her.

He came with a roar, sinking fangs into her neck, drawing on her lifeblood as he spilled inside her. Through the blood he could taste her pleasure, share some of her own sensation, as well as pass on his. This lasted for what seemed an impossible duration of time, and when Eric finally released her Sookie collapsed into the bed, burying her face in the bend of his strong neck. Her fingernails had dug deep enough into his back to draw blood, but the vampire didn't mind, relishing the burn in his skin, the evidence of her pleasure and his prowess, before they sealed over.

After languishing in the afterglow for nearly an hour, lazily exploring each other's skin with gentle fingertips, Sookie raised her head from his chest to peer into his eyes. "What now?" she asked sleepily, though a brightening glint in her eye signaled sleep was the last thing on her mind.

"Hmm. I think I should show you the master bath. Its _far_ too large for just me."

"I find that hard to believe, my Viking, but I accept your invitation."

"Like you have a choice," he teased, scooping up a squealing telepath, taking her lips in a claiming kiss as he strode towards the bathroom. She melted against him, very much liking the idea of being plundered by him that night, _at least _thrice more.


	19. Morgondag

**Chapter 18: Morgondag**

Sookie awoke to a tangle of sheets blue as an Egyptian sky, and the heavy weight of an arm slung across her body. The events of the night previous came back to her gradually. The reunion, the lovemaking, the bath and the lovemaking again. And again. They'd laughed and played until the dawn, and now her Viking lay curled behind her, dead to the world in his day-slumber. He felt strangely wooden, and she extricated herself from his grasp to find a very innocent looking Eric laying beside her. Rest took years from his face, robbed him of the glint in his eye that signaled he was not one to be trifled with, a being who had lived for a millennia, and would go on for a millennia more.

She thought of the way he'd teased her last night, swatting her behind playfully, unwilling to not remind her of the ruthless way she'd trimmed his fingerprint away to escape his lair in Louisiana. He'd been furious at first, he'd told her, but she could see in his eyes that in the end there was a strange sort of pride he felt for her willingness to do what she deemed necessary.

Eric told her that Pam had accompanied him to Sweden, of course, but agreed to make herself scarce for his reunion with her. She could just hear Pam's snark. _I"ll go, but it'll cost you a new pair of pumps. _She had no doubt Eric would deliver something tasteful, expensive, and entirely to her satisfaction.

And, briefly, they'd spoken of Bill. His words implied, as well as the shiny white fangs in a little box, that her first love had met a grisly end. _"He endured quite a bit of excruciating pain before the end, but eventually he met his final death. So in short, yes, I killed Bill."_

Eric obviously took delight in the cinematic reference, and spared her the details; she didn't want them. But a great relief washed through her, with the knowledge that he would bother her no more.

Was killing him really necessary?

Perhaps.

Sookie found she felt very little remorse; her heart did not ache, but felt numb to the matter. Good riddance, as they say.

It was only after Sookie came out of the shower that she noticed a note upon the nightstand, in Eric's neatly penned letters.

_Enjoy, lover. All the necessary papers are within. Until nightfall, _

_Eric_

With curiosity, Sookie picked up the keyring next to the note, and realized them to be car keys. _What have you done now, Eric Northman?_

Only snooping would tell. She entered the garage to find the black M3, of which she was already acquainted with. An elegant Volvo, which she assumed to be Pam's. And then at the end, with a little leap in her heart, she surveyed the car that could only be meant for her.

It was bright red, short and squat and headlights wide-eyed with road-wonder -it positively gleamed with the promise of alacrity.

_Eric, you didn't_.

Of course, he did.

Sookie couldn't help herself.

She _had _to take the Mini-Cooper for a drive.

_**OOOOOOOOOOO**_

Sleepily, Henrik made his way from the bedroom of his flat, to grope for the coffee maker. It wasn't an every day ritual, but he felt he needed the boost of energy that morning.

The doctor hadn't slept a wink, only stared at the dark ceiling, thinking upon Sookie, her Viking vampire, and the strange occurrence that followed as he left them to their own devices.

While walking down the street towards his own dwelling the night previous, he'd fought back the tears, knowing they would freeze to his face in the harsh winter wind. Gripped by the sudden certainty that he and Sookie would be over completely, he walked alone; academically he'd known this moment would certainly come. That the vampire would claim his lover once more; that she would slide into Eric's arms like his missing puzzle piece.

Still, when faced with the reality, he couldn't quite shake the sting of his own feelings. The fact that he too had come to love Sookie, in spite of himself; she was too warm, too good, too wonderful of a woman not too. As he'd enjoyed the snow and the cold because it suddenly suited his mood, examining his melancholy as the scientist he was, probing, curious, even as it hurt, a shadow separated itself from a building ahead.

_Again_? he'd thought, for undoubtedly this was another vampire; he could tell by its near feline grace, its complete union with the darkness. But it was not so tall as Eric, not so broad. Henrik's heart leapt in his chest, as he wondered if Sookie's lover had not sent one of his brethren to finish him off for good. The challenge had passed between them, over Sookie's head. And Eric didn't seem to be the type to take any sort of challenge sitting down.

Because he felt certain he could do nothing to stop it, if this Creature of the Night meant him harm, Henrik merely waited, hands in his pockets, standing tall. After seeming to regard him for a moment, the shadow spoke.

"_It must be a difficult thing, Dr. Jurgensen_, _to lose the woman you love to a monster."_

_ "I am not one to label all vampires monsters broadly_," the doctor had cautiously defended, only earning him a harsh snicker.

_"Ah, this new generation. You are all so…egalitarian. But surely you must fear for her? Falling into the arms of a creature who has lived a thousand years - you know he has killed, that he will kill again. That he will take what he wants because there is no one who can really stop him. Aren't you afraid he will hurt that sweet girl? She doesn't know what he's really capable of."_

Henrik _was_ afraid Eric would hurt her. _Very _afraid - though he'd known better than to ever mention it to Sookie. "_Does anyone, really?" _the doctor had countered, his diplomacy beginning to strain with the mysterious shadow before him.

"_Then you are not angry? That you have done so much for her here; given her a new life. And still, at the first sign of her vampire she falls into his arms, and not yours?"_

_ "That's none of your business," _grumbled Henrik.

That too, was alarmingly close to how he felt.

"_Well…" _hissed the shadow. "_When you finally fear enough for her, and decide its time to do something about Eric Northman, call this number."_

With a flourish a card appeared from the shadow's garments, and more out of surprised action than true interest Henrik took it from him. And then, the shadow melted back into the night, as seamless as it had come.

It was a simple thing, white, with only a phone number printed in the middle.

It rested in his coat pocket still, hidden, but not forgotten.

The doctor was a scientist, through and through, yet he could not quite shake the feeling that the devil itself had manifested in the night to hand him a direct line to his services.

Perplexed, Henrik sipped upon the bitter brew of the magic bean, crossing arms over his chest.

A chill.

Goosebumps.

A very bad feeling about all this.

A knock on the door caused him to jump, spilling hot coffee upon his leg. He swore harshly, less at the coffee, and more at life, and made his way to the door.

He knew who stood on the other side long before he opened it; he could feel her mind, knew its signature, though he couldn't quite read it anymore. She'd learned her lessons well.

"Sookie. What brings you here this morning?"

With a smile she crossed the threshold, shrugging out of her coat. "Well, we said _morgondag, _last night, and here we are."

She'd been out for a joyride, and found herself parked in front of his building, was more like it. The mini-cooper zipped like a luxury go-cart dream.

They had indeed said _tomorrow_, but he never expected to see her so early.

As she removed her scarf Henrik could see the bite marks upon her neck, two fine puncture wounds, and found his hand raising to touch them before he could stop himself. By the expression upon his face alone, Sookie could read his thoughts. "He didn't hurt me," she assured him, a gentle hand lifting to cover his own.

Henrik nodded, backing off. It was too much, too tempting, while his hands were upon her skin. An ache in his heart at the sight of her, so soon, ambushed him, made his knees just a little weak. It felt something like love; something like losing it.

"Then you had a good night?"

He crossed the apartment to pour her a cup of coffee; he knew just how she liked it, cream and sugar. She watched him with eyes tinged with melancholy; even after her night with Eric - her mind-blowingly sensual evening with a Viking sex god - she still couldn't help but admire the human doctor in her life. His sleep rumpled hair, his bare torso, the loose waistband of his jeans, top button undone. The suggestion of blue plaid boxers, and the line of hair leading down to them. There was no pre-meditation in him - he did not flaunt his beauty in front of her; it simply was, and she felt moved.

That too felt alarmingly like love, and was exactly what she knew needed discussing.

Henrik handed her the mug, and she inhaled the scent appreciatively, before taking a gulp. She leaned against the island, and he across from her against the sink - neither knew quite where to begin.

Finally, it was Henrik who broke the silence. "So now that your vampire has arrived, you will be with him?"

Sookie bit her lip, and found she couldn't quite meet the doctor's eyes. But she nodded, becoming intimately familiar with the tile floor. "I think so."

"You are not sure?"

Still, she would not look up to him, and Henrik found he desperately wished she would. On impulse, he rested his coffee on the counter, crossing to Sookie. She yipped in surprise as she was suddenly lifted to sit upon the island, the doctor's hands upon her hips. "There now. We are finally eye to eye." There was teasing in his voice - the lightness that usually flavored their conversations - but underneath it all, a current of something heavier. Something she couldn't quite identify.

Sookie set her coffee aside, placing her hands upon the doctor's well developed chest. He hadn't moved his hands from their place at her hips, long thumbs sliding against bare skin beneath her shirt.

"It's hard to think, while you do that."

Finally, she found the courage to meet his azure blue gaze, and her heart clenched at the sorrow within his eyes.

"It shouldn't be, if you're going to chose _him_."

"You're _jealous_?"

Henrik bit his lip, reluctant to offer a confession. But quietly, he acknowledged, "Perhaps I had allowed myself to hope, just a little, that someday you could be mine."

Sookie stiffened at that word.

_ Mine_.

It was beginning to equate to a four letter swear word for her; the way these cavemen wielded it like a club. It surprised her that even Henrik could give in to the impulse; was it so ingrained in man's DNA, that he just couldn't help himself? No matter what progress society and male/female relationships made?

"Henrik, he's done so much for me. He's come so far. Jesus, he _faked his own death_. For me. To be with me."

"Yes. It is like in the movies-these grand gestures. Life or death and love that can last forever."

"Vampires have great flare for drama - I'll give them that."

Henrik smiled sadly. "Then you love him?"

"Yes."

He nodded, now finding _he _had trouble meeting her gaze. "And he loves you? He will be good to you?"

"Henrik-"

"Because he has the bearing of a king, Sookie. And he treats everyone as though he is one. Lord and ruler of all he surveys."

"You're worried he'll force me to do things I don't want to do?"

"Is that unfounded?"

"No. He's tried before. But I wouldn't allow it. I think that's part of the appeal to him - that I won't just roll over and do anything he wants."

"He likes the challenge."

"Always."

The doctor pursed his lips, and Sookie watched them, perhaps too fascinated. "Then I hope he knows there is so much more to love of you, besides your … stubbornness. That you are kind and brave and good - I knew these things from the beginning, I saw them in your mind. It was partly why I chose you, in Merlottes. Why I wanted to study you, and why I brought you here with me."

Sookie's heart clenched all the more at the sight of tears welling in Henrik's eyes, and she raised a hand to cup his stubbled cheek, marveling at the line of his strong jaw. So ridiculously like Eric's - they could have been cousins, brothers, even, in appearance. Certainly not temperament. "It's not exactly fair, you know, that you knew my mind from the beginning. But I never quite could know yours - you're too strong to let me in."

"Do you want to see?" he asked, heart thundering in his chest at the thought. "Do you wish to know my mind, sweet Sookie?"

He did not exactly wait for her answer, one large hand moving to cup the back of her head, buried in her hair. Henrik's lips brushed hers in a reverent kiss - what he feared in his heart would be their last - and he sighed deeply as he pressed his forehead to hers. The next moment Sookie felt as though she was falling, falling into him, and his thoughts, of her. The way he saw her from the beginning, the beautiful barmaid who so obviously deserved better - the hitch in his breath at her first smile for him - he loved her deeply, adored her, bordered on adulation - and it was the purest thing she'd ever known. And because of it, that true, selfless love, she knew he would let her go to the vampire without a fight - if Eric indeed was her choice.

With a breath that bordered on a sob, Sookie wrapped her arms around Henrik's neck, and he held her close in a comforting embrace. The only other person who'd ever loved her that way was Gran.

And Eric?

Well, she couldn't read Eric's thoughts, so she would never really know. She had to conduct a relationship with Eric the way everyone else did relationships - a little trust - a little hope - and a little luck can go a long way.

"You must promise me one thing," Henrik whispered into her ear.

"Yes?"

"You must promise me that you will not give up on your studies, no matter what he demands of you. You must retain yourself, through the storm that is Eric Northman. I can see that he is the type whose love can consume you - mold you, to what he wants. To make you _want _to be molded. Love him, but don't surrender to him, Sookie. You are too wonderful to let him change you into a mere accessory to himself."

It scared Sookie, because she knew in the beginning, that was _exactly _what Eric had intended to do with her. But now, she knew, that she and her vampire were coming to an understanding. That she would be herself, belong to herself, but that she could love him too. That they could be happy as individuals, and that they could love as two distinct pieces of something beautiful and whole.

"_I promise_," agreed Sookie.

She'd never meant to keep a promise more in her entire life.


	20. Ulf and Adele

**A/n: I have to thank all of you who have left reviews, kind words and constructive criticism, you're the best! **

**Chapter 19: Ulf and Adele**

Christmas loomed just around the corner, and yet another heavy snow drifted down upon them, adding to the two feet already piled upon the ground. For a girl who grew up in the hothouse that was Louisiana, winter in Scandinavia was a season steeped in magic, despite the biting cold.

She pulled into the garage of Eric's grand house. By the looks of the weather outside she would be snowed in for the weekend, but Sookie certainly didn't mind. Entering the house through the kitchen, Sookie listened for signs of her lover. She hungered for him in his absence; it was a stroke of luck their reunion occurred over the copious free time of winter break.

Sookie felt puzzled as the faint sounds of what seemed to be animals growling met her ears. A thrill of fear jetted up her spine. Werewolves? Had Sophie-Anne found them? She searched the kitchen for something to be used as a weapon, when the growling neared closer. The telepath watched the door in a moment of frozen surprise, as the alleged intruder darkened the door.

Or rather, scampered through it, tripped, and rolled playfully to sit at her feet, tongue hanging out its little mouth in a lopsided grin. Sookie found herself faced with a ferocious…puppy, quite possibly the cutest she'd ever seen, a bright red bow attached to the back of its collar. "Well, hi there," she greeted, scooping up the baby dog. It was a ball of black fluff, with a blond muzzle and eyebrows, large brown eyes that glittered with the fresh innocence of all young things.

It desperately tried to lick her as she tickled its belly, and Sookie's heart filled to bursting with adoration.

"Do you like her?"

Sookie looked up to find Eric leaning against the doorway, a pleased smile lighting his handsome features. He wore a crisp black shirt and dark jeans, and still her breath caught at the sight of him. She'd become interested in the concept of Karma, and she couldn't _imagine _the slew of good things she must have done in some previous life, to be loved now by a man like Eric.

Another dog heeled at his feet, head held high and proud as his master's, watching Sookie with an intelligent interest. It was a stockier breed, a spitz with a curled tail and powerful body.

"She's darling," said Sookie, tickling the puppy, winning a playful growl. "But I had no idea you liked dogs?"

Eric pushed away from the doorjamb, stealing a kiss over the puppy making a frantic attempt to lick him too. "I wanted something to keep you company here during the daytime, and to protect you while I sleep," he explained. "So, an early Merry Christmas to you, my lover."

Sookie set the puppy down, and it scampered immediately to the mature dog, knawing upon its leg sloppily before collapsing at its feet. The elder allowed this with a bored expression that so uncannily resembled his master it was eerie.

"She is a Swedish lapphund," Eric explained. "And the other, a Jämthund, an Elkhound. I had one as my companion as a mortal man. They are fearless and loyal; not even bears intimidate them."

Eric drew her close, distracting her with kisses once more. Even the time he needed for rest seemed too long, spent away from her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked forward to seeing _anyone_, the way he longed for Sookie's presence. Her smile and her bright blue eyes and the easy way she teased him. It felt similar to the nagging desire created by a blood bond, yet she remained free of him. Only human emotion bound them, simple and pure. She made him feel alive in ways so vivid it alarmed him.

"Do they have names?" Sookie asked breathily between kisses, as Eric began edging her towards the living room.

"Ulf, and…whatever you decide for the pup. It's up to you."

"I think I'll call her Adele."

And then it dawned on her.

Ulf?

The name struck a familiar chord in Sookie's memory.

"How funny. Just like in my dreams."

"Dreams?"

Impatient, Eric scooped his telepath up in his arms, carrying her into the high-ceilinged living room. He had a surprise for her. A roaring fire waited in the great stone fireplace, and he lay her down before it upon a soft fur rug. There were snacks upon the coffee table, sausages and cheeses and Christmas chocolates, but those could wait for later.

"I told you I dreamt of you. We played on the shores of a rocky beach, and you always seemed to have a dog like that with you. _Ulf."_

Eric stared down at her interestedly, his long body spread out alongside hers. The puppy lost no time in joining the pile, of course situating herself between her masters in a fuzzy lump. "How interesting, Sookie. For some nights I remember fantasizing about taking you to the shores where I was happiest as a man. Daydreaming, if you will, of making love to you on the beach. Holding you next to the fire, and trying to talk some sense into you."

Sookie raised a hand to caress his cheek, brushing a lock of golden hair away from his face. "Do you think we were…sharing dreams, Eric?"

He turned to kiss her wrist with a reverence that moved something deep inside Sookie's soul. The sudden intensity within his eyes captivated her; to look anywhere but his artic blue gaze suddenly became impossible. "I longed for you so deeply, my lover, that my thoughts traveled across an ocean to reach you. And what does that win me?"

Sookie paid him a searching stare of her own.

If he loved her, why couldn't he just say it? Would it always be like this? A life full of grand gestures, yet still she would remain wanting, wondering, what she really meant to him? Why did that silly, four lettered word mean so much to her?

Still, she _longed _for it. For that barrier to lift from between them. She wanted to be free to tell him of her love, without being forced to speak in riddle and allusion. Perhaps it was simply being a vampire that made such things so easy for Eric; everything was a dance with them, clever, coy, implied. But she _wasn't _a vampire. She was a telepath, and curse or no, she was used to everything being laid out on the table. Sookie knew that if Eric could open up to her the way Henrik had, show her a love even _close _to being comparable, and she would never leave his side again. She would be rendered utterly incapable; it would seal the deal, as much as anything ever could in this strange and unpredictable life.

But perhaps it wasn't fair to demand such a thing of a creature like Eric, and eternal soul who valued his privacy and secrets more than money or blood.

Scarier yet to her, maybe he didn't feel that way for her.

Maybe he couldn't.

She didn't know, and it drove her up the wall some days, agonizing over their future the way only a cognizant mortal can.

Eric read the turmoil in her eyes, and at that moment wished he were the one with powers of telepathy. "What is this pain I see in your eyes, Sookie? You must tell me."

Sookie looked away, to the swords crossed upon the mantle, the crackling flames, the baby dog nestled between them. Suddenly anywhere but his eyes boring into hers. "It's just…" She tried and failed to find the words, and Eric gingerly moved the puppy to the other side of them, not able to bear at that moment anything between them. "You are so good to me, Eric. And I wish I knew why."

"Why?" the vampire asked incredulously, his old, cold heart suddenly pounding in his chest. Whether of fear or desire, he couldn't exactly be sure. "What do you mean, _why_?"

"I mean _why_, Eric! Why do you treat me like a goddess? Why did you go to such great lengths to be here with me? Why do you buy me these expensive gifts? Why are you paying for my school, now that the government has rescinded state-funded tuition for non-citizens? I'm not your wife."

Bewildered, Eric raised an eyebrow. What did she want from him, that he had not already given her? His attention and devotion, his body, and she could have his blood if she wanted it. He _wanted _her to want it. It would be a bond far more meaningful than a ceremony of human matrimony, but he wondered if in her southern upbringing, she couldn't quite shake the idea that two people in their situation _should _be married.

"Do you want to be my wife, Sookie? Would that make you feel better about accepting things from me? A piece of paper proclaiming us legally bound?"

He seemed suddenly amused by the idea, but it could be done if she wished. Such things were legal in Sweden.

But the telepath shook her head, obviously not pleased the way most women would be at such a question. "That's _not_ what I meant, Eric," she groaned, and in her frustration she turned away from him, suddenly feeling so _very _overwhelmed by her love for him, and the possibility it wasn't reciprocated the way she needed it to be, to give him everything. And for all the caution she'd exercised, Sookie _wanted _to be free to give Eric everything.

No one confused Eric Northman the way this small woman did. Something close to fury suddenly boiled in his blood, but perhaps it could be more likened to fear. Perhaps he treated her like a goddess and spoiled her like a queen, but at times like these he felt inadequate for the task of making her happy.

_Why?_

_ BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, SOOKIE STACKHOUSE!_

Slowly, Sookie turned to look upon him once more, a small smile curving her lips, a ray of hope suddenly glittering in her blue eyes.

"Well, _now _you admit it."

Eric tilted his head curiously, and the smile died upon Sookie's lips.

She realized the Viking had said nothing aloud, but only _thought_ it with the force and fury of a hurricane.

"Admit what?" he asked darkly, a sudden suspicion in his eyes that inspired a trickle of fear in her heart.

Her ability to read vampire thoughts was possibly her most well guarded secret, and Sookie had a sudden foreboding that she'd betrayed herself most thoroughly.

"Nothing." She tried to brush it off, but Eric would have none of it, gripping her shoulder roughly as he turned her back to him.

"Admit _what_?" he demanded once more, and Sookie closed her eyes to the power beating upon her skin, seeking refuge behind her eyelids.

"_That you love me_," she whispered like a prayer, hoping after all this, that it would be her salvation.

"You can read vampire thoughts."

It wasn't exactly a question.

"Only sometimes, and not on purpose. When the thought is intense, sometimes it breaks through. And you're touching me, which makes it easier…"

"Have your read my thoughts often?"

"No. Maybe once before, close to when we first met."

"Others?"

"It was how I found out Bill had been sent by the Queen, while he tried to bond me. Are you going to kill me now?"

Eric seemed offended that she thought he could hurt her, even for something so damning as this. Several long moments passed, before he finally answered, "No, Sookie, though we must keep this our own secret. No one must know. _No one_. Not even Pam."

"Check."

"Good."

And his mouth crashed over hers, stealing her breath away. He pulled her so close that she felt certain they might melt into one being, his mouth exploring her own so deeply, leaving no corner untouched. Clothes shed like leaves in fall, scattering across the floor. It was only as Eric pushed inside her, fighting the tightness even through the moisture she produced in her desire for him, that he demanded, "Well, do you have something to say to _me_?"

He thrust, hard, and Sookie couldn't think for the bliss that clouded her brain. She clutched at reality like smoke, quickly rising to another plane of existence as he loved her so mercilessly. "You frighten me sometimes, Eric Northman," she finally confessed, voice breathy, breathing labored. "But I love you. You are apart of me now, my soul, whether you like it or not."

Eric smiled wolfishly, for even her declaration of love seemed to come as a challenge. Who else would dare, but his fiery little telepath?

There were no more words, until they lay in the glowing quiet of post-coitus. Sookie settled upon Eric's chest, his large hands tracing the contours of her bare back. "I _would _marry you, Sookie, if you wanted it," he mentioned again, the grumble of his voice vibrating in his chest. "You are that woman for me, in this lifetime, who I want to protect and care for. You are…the one I love most."

Smiling happily, Sookie kissed Eric with an easy languor, lingering upon his soft lips appreciatively. "You don't have to marry me, Eric," she whispered. "I just need to know how you feel sometimes, is all. I can't read you, like everyone else."

Eric thought that she _could _know his feelings quite easily, his love and everything else, if she would accept a blood bond to him. But she'd rejected it so violently before, that he feared mentioning it would ruin the magic of their night together. It could wait for later. A better time. What was the rush? For the first time in a long time, he realized, he did not feel as though he were racing against a clock in winning Sookie Stackhouse.

He _had _her.

She _loved _him.

The rest would come, he assured himself confidently. They'd beaten the odds thus far. They would beat mortality too, in time. He felt certain of it.

"I thought this was refreshing to you? To not know my every thought?"

"No one wants to know a lover's _every _thought. A girl _does_ want to know the best of them, though," she explained cheekily, winning a rumbling chuckle.

"Very well," he ceded, flipping her upon her back once more. "Then I will tell you, I am thinking off…that wonderful facial expression of yours, the one of total abandon, for when I make you cum with my tongue. I _crave_ it like drug." With a wicked smile he ducked low, kissing his way down her body, and Sookie smiled contentedly, curling her toes and arching her back as he laved at the most secret part of her.

Snow streamed past the windows, a surreal winter wonderland outside. The dogs slept in a pile, while Eric loved her masterfully by the fire, and Sookie couldn't imagine a more perfect night. This was heaven, nirvana, the _as good as it gets _everyone chases in love. The stuff songs were made of, and poems, and epic love stories. She'd never known such a sense of supreme content, such a sensation of _complete. _

It couldn't last forever.

The world waited outside, merciless and unyielding.

But maybe, just _maybe,_ they could skip out on paying the reaper, for just a _little_ longer.

**A/N: Fluffy, i know, but I hope a sweet reprieve from the madness... too much?**


	21. The Tallest Tree

**A/N: Here you are, my darlings, a VERY long chapter, for those of you who have been waiting so patiently…Eric/Sookie shippers, [::looks around:: that's all of us, yes?] if you stick with it to the end, you get a prize. Lol. Thanks everyone!**

**Chapter 20: The Tallest Tree**

**Four Months Later**

The bus's brakes groaned as Henrik stepped down, finding himself on a wooded road on the outskirts of Stockholm. The forest towered around him, the shadows of night rendering the tree line an impenetrable wall, and he wondered briefly what it would like to be a creature who needn't fear the dark.

He imagined it to be an intoxicating power.

No wonder vampires were such cocky bastards.

Snow still piled on the sides of the road, glowing in the moonlight, but the promise of spring lightened the air. Even so, a thrill of fear still coursed through his veins. The task ahead boded uncertain; surely the vampire Eric Northman had killed for lesser things asked of him?

But, Dr. Jurgenson approached the stone-faced abode on behalf of Sookie. For her, there was little he wouldn't do, he was finding more and more.

Once before Henrik had been here, a few months ago, near the Christmas holiday. Sookie had wanted to show her telepath friends from the university a real American Christmas. Eric insisted the party be held not at her small apartment, but his castle in the country. It had seemed a generous gesture, but Henrik chalked it off to the vampire's desire to keep an eye on his strong-willed telepath. It proved to be an interesting night, to say the least. Sookie cooked a feast fit for kings, recipes straight from her Gran's own repertoire, and delectable desserts that were perfect for the special occasion, though also explained the American obesity epidemic.

Henrik knew not quite what to make of the vampire Eric Northman. Living a thousand years did not make for simplicity of character. The Viking courted contradiction at every turn, it seemed, carrying himself with the unerring confidence of a king, a certainty of innate superiority to anything that necessitated oxygen to live. And yet, the doctor had watched him with the unfaltering eye for detail of a field researcher with Sookie, and the tenderness he showed her proved as thorough as it was unlikely.

It seemed the bastard genuinely loved her, and the doctor's mind reeled with astonishment.

Henrik warred with himself, instinctively looking for reasons to dislike and distrust the vampire, even as he tried to approach the situation with an objective and scientific eye. However, even if science reduced the mystery of the physical mechanics of the heart down to electrical impulses, the sentimental muscle still would not be tamed by such things as logic, or evidence.

Sookie chose Eric, and therefore, he should let her go, he reminded himself. Sookie slept in Eric's bed on the weekends, not his.

Ergo, he should move on.

She was an excellent assistant, indispensable in her work with the telepaths of the study, and a good friend, . Couldn't it be enough? Couldn't he let things well alone, be satisfied with what they had? All sound advice, yet so very difficult to remember when she lighted into his office to help organize information for the studies, flashing that beautiful smile and flying high with excitement over whatever new knowledge she'd absorbed from class that day.

Her abilities grew stronger every day, and he felt certain sometime soon she would surpass him.

She'd been a southern lily just waiting to bloom, and by some providence she'd fallen into the right set of circumstances to thrive. Someone to teach her how to rule her own mind, to have the power over her own life, rather than constantly wallow in the mire of everyone else's.

And, someone to vanquish her enemies, someone who would fight those who would use her gifts for their own ends. Henrik did not usually condone violence, yet he could not help but feel some relief, deep down in a dark corner of his heart, that Sookie possessed a protector more than willing to kill for her.

Though it seemed she'd escaped those who pursued her, a slight uneasiness remained, a tingling fear, that perhaps they had not seen the last of Sophie-Anne's machinations.

Begrudgingly, both men knew the other filled an essential role in Sookie's life, and it made for a perfectly awkward time with the three of them in the same room together. At the Christmas party they'd managed to be civil, settling for throwing disdainful looks over Sookie's head, that no one in the room seemed to miss but her.

In fleeting moments, the desire to crumple the doctor up like a wad of paper clearly showed upon Eric's expression. Such as when at the party Sookie dragged Henrik into a country dance to one of the songs she'd downloaded on itunes that reminded her of home. The lyrics were filled with slang and drawl, difficult to decipher at times, but the chorus rang out _I don't know who you think you are, but I know this much is true, I wanna do bad things to you_. Perhaps all that saved him was the fact that she'd also twirled with Todd, two stepped with Carmella, and melted into Inga, the way she always did.

The green monster also dug its claws into Henrik that night, and not just while watching Sookie slide into her vampire's arms with the ease of two puzzle pieces crafted upon the God's mountain with the intention of fate. His own mentor, Dr. Ibsen, hit it off surprisingly well with the vampire, the mortal man fascinated by the opportunity to pick the brain of a creature lived through a thousand years of human experience. While the rest of the guests played, they'd retreated into a corner for hours in serious discussion, and worse yet to Henrik's jealous ears, friendly banter and laughter.

Dr. Ibsen too noticed the uncanny resemblance between the vampire and Henrik, and in the manner of a scientist blind to social convention, doggedly questing for data, requested a blood sample for genealogical tests. And to everyone's surprise, Eric had given it, slicing his hand open and bleeding into a small jar before Dr. Ibsen's departure, bestowing what amounted to what could only be thousands of dollars worth of V upon the doctor with a generosity both Henrik and Sookie found curious. The cut closed up within seconds before their eyes, a testimony to the magic and power than coursed through his ancient veins.

Four months later, the results of said test boded of some interest, and Henrik wondered if they would save him in the least, when he made his request of the powerful vampire. Left alone, Henrik couldn't quite shake the thought that Eric wouldn't mind rending him limb from limb, if he could get away with it.

So what on earth was he doing, walking up the vampire's driveway alone, Sookie all the way back in Stockholm, hopefully asleep in her bed? Doctor's orders, though the young woman could be infuriatingly stubborn at times.

Her energy level was astounding, but the young telepath had been burning her candle at both ends. On top of her courses, the telepath studied furiously, devoted herself with zeal to aiding with the paracognitive abilities study, as well as helping the new telepaths find their feet in this strange world, the way Henrik had for her not so long ago. Amidst all this, her relationship with the vampire went on, and the Doctor knew Sookie donated her blood rather frequently.

Usually, this would be absolutely none of his business, and he knew that.

However, he'd noticed Sookie's slow decline over the past month. _Felt _it, in a way he could not quite put words to. Waning energy, forgetting homework and slipping up on tests here and there was not the path she wanted to travel down, after coming so far. He'd mentioned it gently, and been promptly if not politely brushed off.

Pure denial, something he as a doctor dealt with all too often.

Yesterday afternoon, she'd fainted in his office, an absolutely unheard of occurrence for a woman like Sookie. Henrik barely managed to catch her, and holding her slight body upon the couch, he'd taken the opportunity to examine her neck, an appendage of which she usually kept wrapped up in a scarf.

The doctor found considerable evidence of blood loss. Bite marks upon her neck, chest, and the inside of her elbow, and though he did not look, he imagined the femoral artery marked as well.

She'd begged off a trip to the hospital, instead submitting to his own care, nutrient-rich food and lots of rest. He'd watched her sleep, the small woman appearing innocent as a child wrapped up in the thick comforter, her long blond hair spilling out across the pillow.

A burning determination had clenched in his chest.

Perhaps he was a healer, not a warrior, but he would do his best for her.

Perhaps she had chosen the vampire formally, but it could not be denied a certain _something _remained between them, love or something like it, no matter how forbidden. By way of their telepathy and personal affinity, some door had opened between them recently. A connection neither knew quite what to make of, how to explain, or even control. It came sporadically, and at times Henrik felt certain he could feel her in his very soul. Her happiness and triumphs, her sorrows and fears.

They could converse without speaking, send silent messages between each other on frequencies all their own.

And, it was on a train heading north to make a house call to a family whose child was showing symptoms of telepathy and had contacted Dr. Ibsen, that they had discovered haphazardly the full extent to which their minds could link. Barreling through the Swedish countryside on a fast train, she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he'd soon followed suit.

He'd walked alone in his dream at first, wandering, trudging forward through snow piled high in the dead of January. Tall pines loomed from all sides, branches burgeoned with winter frosting. The details remained fuzzy, difficult to grasp, a view through frosted glass, in the manner of a resting mind's musings.

But vividly, he remembered the vision before him, turning up his gaze to find Sookie standing in his path, light as a feather, standing atop the snow. A dress the cornflower blue of her eyes draped across her curves, a gauzy thing that left little to the imagination, and Henrik's mouth dry. She did not appear cold in the least as she paid him an enticing smile, crooking her finger in invitation. Certain he'd chanced upon Freya incarnate, he could do nothing but follow her to the cabin up ahead, suddenly manifested in a hollow. It reminded him of a lodge once shared with his parents as a child, though he and Sookie remained completely alone in the woods.

A fire crackled upon the wall, and Sookie led him to a nest of soft blankets, where he lost no time in gathering her in his arms. Infused with the honest emotional intensity only a dream can allow, their lovemaking left them boneless and without boundary. Henrik had awoken with a start, his heart pounding, sweat beading beneath his scarf. It took several moments to gather his surroundings, to assure himself he and Sookie were speeding forward on a train, and not stranded in a cabin in the woods.

He'd glanced down to find Sookie staring up at him, eyes wide and haunted, her hand gripping his arm tightly.

At that moment, he realized it had not only been his fantasy, but a mutual, near lucid, dream.

_I'm…sorry,_ she'd apologized, presumably for invading his mind while he slept, though she knew not how. Or perhaps simply because all she could offer him was dreams, in her entanglement with Eric Northman.

She'd looked away, only to have a finger curl beneath her chin, turning her back to face him. _Don't be, _he assured her_. _She did not push him away, when he'd dared to lean down, brushing his lips against hers in the lightest of kisses. At that moment, after such a torrid exchange, he couldn't bear not to grasp _something _real between them.

They'd said nothing for the rest of the ride, Sookie settling within the crook of his long arm. Though still tired, neither dared to close their eyes once more, staring out at the rapidly passing countryside.

Henrik shook himself from the memory of their mental intimacy, urging himself back to the present.

He needed to gauge the situation.

He needed to know if the vampire knew he hurt her in his frequent enthusiasm for her blood, if he cared, or if Eric too twisted her up in devious plans for his own gain.

Henrik knocked thrice upon the heavy wooden door, and the female vampire, Pamela answered. Her usual expression of bored disdain shifted to a slight smirk. "Well well, Dr. Jurgenson upon our very doorstep. Sookie's not here, you know."

Henrik swallowed his heart back down, noting the way she seemed to settle her sharp gaze upon his jugular. Here, he was a lamb among wolves, and there was very little he could do except trust.

Not so heartening a prospect, when dealing with vampires.

"_Ja_, I know. I was hoping to speak to Eric."

A blond eyebrow quirked sky high, a mischievous interest gleaming in her eyes. Apparently Pam thought this could only end in something to break the boredom of the night.

"He's downstairs. Follow me."

The pair descended to the basement, the sound of clanging metal strengthening the deeper they went.

Pamela led him down a hallway, and at the end they paused in a doorway, to find three vampires. One stood by the wall, watching the other two with interest as they engaged in a furious battle, moving too fast for the eyes to follow at times, long swords flashing with a terrible beauty as they slashed and struck, braying with laughter all the while.

One, he recognized as Eric through the blur of motion.

The other stood nearly as tall, with a mane of blazing red hair.

It was not until Eric bested his fencing partner, stopping centimeters short of a blow that could have sliced head from shoulders with an incredible grace and mastery, that Pamela cleared her throat. "You have a visitor."

The fierce smile upon Eric's lips died at the sight of Henrik, eyes suddenly chips of ice.

In stillness, Henrik could see the second vampire to be Viggo, the celebrated vampire King of Sweden, whose picture appeared in the paper almost daily in some context or another.

He did not appear pleased to see the doctor either.

Eric leaned upon his sword, regarding the doctor with a hostile curiosity. "Well? What do you want?"

Henrik couldn't help but eye the sword in Eric's hand, a long, broad, and sharp piece of weaponry that appeared entirely capable of slicing him in two, with or without vampire strength behind it.

"I wish to speak to you of Sookie." Pointedly, Henrik's eyes traveled over the other vampires in the room, but Eric waved away the implication.

"There's nowhere in this house they could go, where they could not hear our words, Doctor."

Squaring his shoulders, reminding himself that he was not a peasant goat-farmer addressing a chieftain, as Eric's demeanor implied, his tone came even and matter-of-fact. "Very well. I've come here to inform you, as a doctor, that you are hurting Sookie. You're taking too much blood from her, and her human body can't keep up with the depletion."

Eric's expression darkened, but it was Viggo who snarled openly, "He dares to tell _you _how to feed from your human?"

"She fainted yesterday," Henrik insisted, a thread of anger entering his tone. "She can't feed you so frequently, on top of her school schedule. It's just too much."

Though outwardly he remained impassive, an instinctive rage rolled through the pit of Eric's stomach at this doctor's appearance in his home, making demands of him. Sookie had fainted, and he had not been informed? True, he did feed rather frequently; her intoxicating blood, so full of flavor and a certain hint of magic he could not quite identify, filled his thoughts and dreams night after night.

But he'd been playing this game for quite some time; Sookie had been fine, last week. She didn't seem sick at all to him.

In fact, she'd been _quite _energetic.

Viggo gave a snort, where Eric remained stony, thinking behind his foreboding facade.

"Oh, Eric, she's having trouble playing school," Viggo mocked in a high pitched voice. "It's nothing more than a diversion. She has _you_ now, what could she possibly need an education for?"

Henrik found himself startled to hear such antiquated views voiced by the King, and the doctor's eyes narrowed with an indignant anger. Without realizing, he took a step forward, broad shoulders gone rigid. "How dare you? You think she doesn't have the right to be educated? Perhaps you have not realized, for the company that surrounds you in your nightclub, but in the outside world your views are as outdated as your weapons; Sweden has left you behind, and this is the future we have chosen. That Sookie has chosen. Education. Equal rights. Her own life."

Suddenly Henrik found the sharp tip of the red-head's sword pressing beneath his chin, the vampire in question's mouth curled in a cruel smile. "Listen to the insults coming from your mouth," hissed Viggo. "If my maker won't, then _I_ shall teach you a lesson in manners, mortal."

At that moment, Henrik wondered if he were about to die.

Eric perhaps regretted allowing Viggo and his second, Fröde, to stay. He possessed a true red-headed temperament, and could be impulsive, quick to defend his maker's honor. As Viggo flicked his wrist, intent on bestowing a mark that would never allow the doctor to forget that night in the basement, Eric moved quickly, pushing the sword away.

It resulted in a just a nick upon Henrik's chin, that immediately began to spurt blood, in the way face wounds do. The doctor flinched, immediately pressing fingers to the cut. "No, Viggo," Eric scolded.

"You would allow him to insult you in such a way? I have seen you kill men for less."

The older vampire waved his child away, annoyed that his temper could still rule his actions after so many years. "This one can't be glamoured to forget, my child-King, I would hold my tongue, were I you."

By the surprise upon Viggo's face, it appeared the politician had been counting on wiping a memory of his true vampire behavior. Some things simply wouldn't do in the press, and threatening a doctor with a sword was probably one of them.

"There are other ways to win a man's silence," he mused aloud, a feral and threatening grin upon his lips.

The doctor took a step back for all the good it would do him, glaring daggers as he pressed two fingers to his chin. Blood flowed down his fingers, splashing the front of his white shirt with a startling crimson.

Eric closed the distance once more, they stood nearly toe to toe, eye to eye. Though Eric was the slightly larger, the more muscular, taller by a fraction, the resemblance was uncanny. "I didn't want to believe your Dr. Ibsen," said Eric, seeming to change the subject, "When he called with news of our distant relation."

"_Very _distant," Henrik reminded him, seeming as displeased as the vampire.

Eric's lips curled in a slight and mysterious smile. "You hold no pride, in sharing ancient blood ties with a Viking chieftain? Most would be thrilled."

Henrik merely raised an eyebrow in response. It was interesting for a moment, until he thought upon how the blood line most likely came about. He imagined the Viking before him spread his genes all over the world in various acts of pillage and rape, but felt it best not to voice such suspicions at the moment.

"I think we're a bit too different to be impressed with each other, Northman. I care not for conquering, and you hold no interest in healing. We stand at opposite ends of the spectrum, you and I."

"I haven't done much conquering, as of late," Eric mused.

"Oh, haven't you?"

And they returned to their truest common link: Sookie.

Though Eric would never admit it aloud, the doctor impressed him in one thing: his dogged devotion. Most would have left the little telepath, after realizing her so far out of reach.

"You are either very stupid, very brave, or very in love with _my_ Sookie," said Eric quietly. "Which is it?"

Henrik clenched his jaw, determined not to retreat, even as cold fear shot through his limbs. "Probably a bit of all three," he confessed. "Though none of that's important tonight. I imagine Sookie finds herself incapable of saying no to you at certain moments. You're the one who's lived a millennia, so show some responsibility. If you truly love her, then you have to restrain yourself."

Eric raised a single blond eyebrow. "Do you even know the feat you speak of?" he questioned curiously. "Her blood is…the sweetest I have ever tasted. There's a certain _something _I can't quite put my finger on. Something to do with the telepathy, perhaps, for your blood smells strikingly similar."

Reaching out, Eric daubed a finger in the trail of blood that ran down Henrik's jaw and neck. Licking the finger clean, Eric gave a nod of appreciation. "How interesting." Suddenly, Eric fisted one large hand in Henrik's hair, bending his neck back to a painful angle. Pinned to the vampire's chest with his other arm, the doctor could do nothing but wait. "So, just _how _much do you love Sookie? Would you trade yourself for her? If I promised never to drink from her again, would you let me drain you?"

Growling as a lion over his kill, Eric licked once more over the stream of blood pouring from Henrik's chin, savoring the doctor's fear, his heartbeat quickening in his chest. How tempting it was, to hold his rival's life in his hands, the opportunity to end any breath of opposition to his relationship with Sookie.

He and Viggo could hide the body easily, as they did in the old days.

Wicked thoughts. Easy, wicked thoughts, and he knew Sookie would be appalled if she could know them. And he thought of the way he loved her. Madly, deeply. She was the light of his life, a beacon after a thousand years of darkness, and at the moment, he couldn't bear the thought of losing her to any man or any thing.

"If I thought you would hold your word, I would make that trade," Henrik answered quietly. "But I suspect it would only be a grand waste, dealing with a greedy beast like you."

A low but harsh chuckle escaped Eric. "Smarter than you look, Dr. Jurgenson." Eric's grip tightened, ever so slightly, as he went on in a voice meant only for Henrik's ears, "You cannot fathom the intensity with which I love Sookie, boy. Know this. If you ever try to come between us, it _will_ be the end of you. I promise."

"And if you kill her accidentally? What then?"

Henrik never got his answer.

An unexpected voice they knew all too well pierced the air of the room.

"Eric! _Nej_!"

Slowly, Eric lifted his head from Henrik's wound, the doctor's blood upon his chin, an incriminating stain, a startling contrast against his pale skin. He resisted the immediate urge to release the doctor, as a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But the other vampires watched carefully, and Eric suddenly mourned the delicate dance that would soon take place. How to placate his lover, and not appear weak in the process?

She approached slowly, with outstretched hands, praying to whatever deity may be listening that this night would not end in disaster. "Let him go, Eric. Please."

Appearing to consider the option for a few moments, eventually the vampire let Henrik slide from his grasp, and Sookie pointedly put herself between the doctor and her vampire. "Are you hurt badly?" The sight of his front splattered with blood filled her with alarm.

She'd always feared stumbling upon a scene like this someday, her vampire lover finally giving in to the animal urge to overpower a rival with brute strength and predatory skill. A cold fear spread through her limbs, causing her hands to tremble, her insides to clench into knots.

"I'm fine, Sookie," Henrik assured her, catching small hands that searched his person for injury, urging her to be still. "Its just a nick on the chin, don't worry." Seemingly unconvinced, she touched his chin lightly, inspecting the wound behind the blood that still flowed.

She turned an accusing gaze in Eric's direction, and the vampire watched the humans darkly. Perhaps he'd always known that her heart did not completely belong to him. It was a simple, human inevitability. It didn't matter, he told himself, because she'd chosen him. Yet something in watching them together like this drove the fact home in a near crippling way, causing his spine to tingle with the desire to reach out and wring Henrik's neck once more.

"Well? Do you feel like a big bad vampire now?"

Her tone came sharp, but inside, she felt as though she were drowning. She loved Eric so very _deeply_, she didn't know if she could bring herself to leave him, no matter what he'd done to Henrik. She could grandstand, and maybe it would be enough, but in her heart she knew her threat no longer carried weight. In this weakness, he'd finally rendered her powerless, and it was a terrifying thing.

Eric raised an eyebrow, and she knew this mask. The unaffected vampire, unconcerned with mortal fragility.

"Sookie, how opportune of you to come. We were just discussing you," he said, neutral, ignoring her jab.

She looked between the vampire and the doctor, attempting to discern what exactly occurred before her arrival. Yes, she was supposed to be in bed, but she'd been overcome by a sense of dread that both puzzled and terrified her - she followed it all the way to Eric's basement, and felt grateful that she did.

Between Eric's icy façade, and Viggo's barely tamped rage, the telepath suddenly felt quite uneasy as a human in this house, Eric's lover or no.

God _damn _it, she'd thought they'd gotten past this.

_ But this is what they __**are**_, whispered a voice inside. The voice that dealt in flight or fight, in logic and survival, in seeing the world for exactly what it was.

"Oh? Last I checked, _discussion _does not involve bleeding," she snapped.

In this moment Viggo stepped forward once more, unable to stand the disrespect unfolding before his very eyes. "This man entered Eric's home with the gall to make demands of my maker in his dealings with you. He's lucky to be alive."

Sookie looked to Viggo, and knew in that moment she'd greatly underestimated the vampire king. Misread him completely. He gave the façade of a contemporary monarch for the papers, a businessman and civilized member of society, but underneath it all lurked a predator waiting to be let free.

At that moment, she felt certain there was not a street in Stockholm Henrik could walk after dark in safety. Unconsciously she stepped closer to her doctor, squaring her shoulders, raising her chin high. "What demands?"

"Henrik says I've been hurting you, Sookie. Is it true?" cut in Eric.

Sookie paused to meet Eric's eyes, and they burned as twin orbs filled with lightning, causing an electric shiver to spider across her skin. She didn't want to admit it. She'd felt similar fatigue at times as a waitress, and had always managed to pull through it without incident. But this time? She was exhausted, well and truly, to the core, and up until her body betrayed her by collapsing, she'd put on a good show.

The truth of the matter was she'd been so high on life, she'd sailed through the first signs of exhaustion, passed by the lack of sleep with a little finger wave, skipped over her body's protests with a promise of _we'll rest later_.

All her life, life had never been so _good _to Sookie, and between Eric, university, and Henrik's program with the telepaths, she just didn't want to _stop_. Maybe she let Eric feed upon her too much, but in her view, she was the only one to blame.

"This is ridiculous," said the telepath, shaking her head as her heart filled with fear for Henrik, and disdain for senseless violence. "I slipped. I'll get back on the horse. It's nothing for you men to get so up in arms about. No fighting was required here. No bleeding. Don't you _fucking_ understand?"

In her extreme frustration, her eyes filled with tears, which she fought not to allow to fall.

Eric's expression remained impassive, but Viggo scoffed at the display. "Will you allow this to slide?" demanded Viggo of his maker. After all the lessons Eric taught him as a young vampire, of how to command respect and instill fear into enemies; this display boggled his mind. What kind of hold did the telepath have over his maker, that he would suffer the doctor's existence any longer?

Fear and dread stormed within Sookie, black and howling above her heart. "You won't lay a hand on Henrik," she demanded of Viggo, taking a step forward. "You will not harm a hair on his head, do you understand?"

Viggo smiled disbelievingly, his fangs distended in his ire. "Brave little Sookie, giving orders to vampire royalty." He leaned closer, whispering theatrically, "I have to remind you, it just doesn't _work_ that way."

Once again, Sookie found herself in the middle of vampire politics. Ranks and measures of authority. The question of who could abuse whom, and get away with it.

There was only one vampire in the room who could possibly give Viggo an order he would follow, and Sookie looked to him imploringly. "Please," she pleaded to Eric. "Order him, as his maker. Demand that he and his leave Henrik in peace."

Eric stiffened; here was the exact situation he'd hoped to avoid. Viggo's underlings feared Eric would hold sway over their king as his maker, make Viggo his puppet. It was a fear Eric had waved aside as uninteresting to him. He only wanted a place to live, he'd insisted. He had no interest in politics anymore.

One such underling watched right at this moment, Fröde. He watched with an expression crossed between curiosity and revulsion, fascinated by the telepath, even as he could not understand why his master or hers did not put her and the doctor in their places as humans among them.

Sookie could see Eric's reluctance, could practically taste it upon her tongue. He would not give the order, and for nothing, Henrik would meet his end. His only crime would be caring for Sookie, and she couldn't have his death on her hands.

No one stood in more shock than Eric, as she sank to her knees before him, bowing her head in desperation, her forehead brushing his leg. "Please, tell him, Eric. Order him. _Please_, I beg of you. I _beg _of you."

Frozen with utter surprise, Eric stared down at his lover, the woman who had fought tooth and nail any form of submission to him. It was her fear for the doctor's life that could bring her to her knees, and a sudden sadness washed over him. She trembled as he touched her, attempted to draw her to her feet. "Sookie, stop this. Get up, lover."

But she only hunched down farther, a small hand gripping his ankle tightly. And as she turned up her face to look at him, something small and unidentifiable broke within him, at the sight of her tears and wild eyes.

Would she beg for _his_ life this way, he wondered?

He imagined she would, but it suddenly seemed beside the point.

"Viggo," he called quietly, unable to tear his gaze from Sookie's.

"You wouldn't," protested the King.

"I would make the reasonable request, that you refrain from harming the doctor." Perhaps the language was modern, but the implication remained ancient, filled with a power that pulled at Viggo's very existence. He knew he'd received a maker's order, no matter what the guise. "Times are different now, my child."

"Yes, they certainly are."

With a pointed glare, the King strode from the basement, Fröde following close behind, and warily the humans watched the vampires go.

Hands upon her shoulders, Eric pulled Sookie to her feet. She melted into his embrace, and were they alone, she might have indulged in releasing the tremors that raked her chest, letting them form the sobs that attempted to escape. "How is it I can deny you nothing?" he demanded angrily, burying his nose within the warmth of her hair behind her ear, nearly holding her off the ground. "Do you realize what I've just done for you?"

Already, Eric's machinating mind began to whirl with the implications, with plans for defense. Just when it had seemed things could be quiet in Sweden, that he and Sookie and Pam could have a life free of intrigue. He wondered if there would be a grudge. If in search of peace, they would be forced to move once more.

Well, eternity was long, and the world a _very _large place, he'd discovered long ago.

Sookie pulled back to study Eric, cupping his sculpted cheeks in her palms. Her lungs burned with the desire to take a breath, but the vampire had stolen her ability. In fact she looked upon him so intently, Eric himself felt the urge to squirm as a microbe under scrutiny. The telepath knew every part of the vampire, every inch, every line and freckle - - yet somehow, she felt as though she were seeing him for the first time.

In their moment of truth, Eric proved she had nothing left to fear of him.

That she could truly count on him for anything, to do the _right _thing, even if it meant going against his vampire nature. That he would not force her to compromise her morals, simply for ego. For the paltry sake of pride, tradition, or politics. Sookie knew she would doubt him no more.

"You saved a man's life," she finally spoke. "And I love you for it." She kissed him gently, her fingers sliding into his hair, gripping it by the fistfuls. Nothing in her manner indicated that anything had changed between them, yet instinctively, the vampire felt uneasy in his position with her.

If only he could read _her _thoughts.

The man in question watched their embrace with sad eyes, and turned away from the sight. Sookie startled him, suddenly at his side, touching his arm. "Come on. Let's clean up that chin. We need to talk."

Instinctively, the doctor looked to Eric, cautious of the vampire's reaction. However, much to his surprise, Eric nodded towards the stairs behind Sookie's back, though he could not decide if it was a gesture of acceptance, approval, or simple desire to eject him from the vampire's sight for the moment.

"You're supposed to be resting," he protested to Sookie, still a bit shell shocked from his foray into the world of vampires, following her on legs that wobbled just slightly from an overdose of adrenaline.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm a stubborn patient. What were you thinking coming here alone?" Eric listened to them go back and forth as they ascended the stairs, light banter and scolding without a pause.

The vampire pulled his sword from the wood floor, regarding the weapon, an ancient and finely crafted thing. Something he'd possessed as a mortal man so very long ago. Once upon a time, a man could live by his ability to wield one, but things were so very different now. He thought on what Henrik had said, of Sookie choosing the modern Sweden, and couldn't help but think she'd just walked up the stairs with it.

It was not the first time his years weighed down upon him, whispering that perhaps he was simply too old to completely understand Sookie, to live in her world and be loved by her. It was no wonder vampires behaved so savagely, he mused. Time passed, and left them behind. They would take what they wanted, just so as not to be forgotten by the world around them.

Pam spoke for the first time in the exchange, having been a shadow watching from the edge of the room. "Excuse my French, Eric, but _what the fuck?_"

All he could do in reply was shake his head.

"I love her," he sighed. "Do you think I'm a fool?"

Pamela paused, regarding the vampire who made her with a critical eye.

_Something _had changed.

"I'm not sure yet," she answered honestly, and left him alone in the studio.

_You should have come to me, _scolded Sookie, washing the blood from Henrik's face with a warm washcloth. She dipped it in a bowl filled with pink water, ringing it out, and starting again. He perched upon a stool in the kitchen, she sitting across from him. Adele the dog watched curiously, now almost full grown, furry head quirked to the side. Her counterpart Ulf stared on distrustfully at the newcomer in their home.

She and Henrik did not speak aloud, but carried on a mental conversation, one of the many possibilities they'd discovered in their mutual telepathy.

_I tried, thrice. You didn't take me seriously. _Henrik winced as she found the tender center of the wound, and it began to bleed once more.

_Well, I am now. Happy?_

The nick probably needed at least one stitch, but he would make do with a bandage. Both knew he'd skated by nearly scott free.

_Of course not. Though bleeding for one's lady does stir a man's sentiments._

He tried for humor, but from the expression upon Sookie's face, could tell he failed miserably.

Sookie pressed a butterfly closure to the wound, and even with the blood washed from his skin, he still appeared to have murdered someone from the stains upon his shirt. He allowed himself to lean in only slightly to her hand upon his cheek, before pulling away with a sigh.

_Well, I hope your alarmingly masculine impulses to defend me have been satisfied, _she snarked, leaning upon the counter. _You bled, and even could have died. How exciting._

Henrik fixed her with a serious stare, and she found herself admiring the blue of his irises, her focus slipping. He noted it, could see how tired she appeared even now, and the thought of her operating that go-cart she called a car all the way out to the vampire's house in her condition alarmed him to no end. _I may not have a sword, or fangs, or the strength of twenty men, but it doesn't mean I won't fight for you if you need me to._

_If you fight them, you will die, Henrik. _

_So tell me, have I placed you in even more danger, by causing an altercation with the king?_

Sookie shook her head, blond hair sliding over her shoulders in a way the doctor found distracting. _Eric will protect me, Henrik. It's you I'm worried about now. Eric may have ordered Viggo not to harm you, but vampires are the trickiest beings I know. If he wants to, he'll find a way around it._

_Surely he was only grandstanding. What could he possibly gain by doing me harm?_

_You don't know them_, she sighed mournfully. _It's a matter of pride, and other medieval shit done away with centuries ago. But I won't let them harm you_, she promised. _You would never be tangled up with vampires in the first place, if it weren't for me._

He thought on the way she'd saved him, going to her knees before Eric, such a gesture of subservience that his stomach had turned.

_How? More groveling? I won't let you trade your freedom for me_.

_That was a first incident, I assure you. But desperate times and desperate measures, as the saying goes._

Henrik shook his head minutely. Clearly, he did not share her optimism, believing now that the box had been opened, she wouldn't be able to shut it once more. Give a vampire an inch, and it seemed they would demand a mile more, thought the doctor.

_He's breaking you, slowly_, said the doctor, his thoughts filled with fear for Sookie. Slowly his hand inched across the counter, his first finger brushing hers only minutely, and yet there was a spark that sent a shiver up both of their arms. There was the connection that had allowed Sookie to feel his distress, to know his fear in extreme circumstance. Neither quite understood it yet. _Leave him, before it's too late for you. Before you lose yourself in their brutal world._

Sookie immediately drew back her hand, as though he'd burned her with the very suggestion. _That's not an option here_. _I love Eric_.

The doctor sighed, and couldn't help but compare the conversation to every case file of an abused woman trapped in a relationship without even realizing. "_Ja, ja_, _and he loves you too, best he is able. But he isn't human, Sookie, and fragile things cannot be equals in his world. If you could have heard some of the things Viggo said, before you appeared…_

_Viggo said, not Eric. He's Eric's child, not his clone._

At that moment, Henrik knew she would not listen to reason. Her loyalty to the vampire was as strong as it was frustrating.

From the corner of the hall, Eric watched the two telepaths in the kitchen with a certain fascination. It was obvious they conversed by their body language, though no words left their mouths. They behaved themselves admirably, yet somehow, at least to a vampire's eyes, the longing between them was nearly a palpable thing.

"Why did you not tell me you fainted yesterday, Sookie?" demanded Eric. Henrik jumped at the vampire's sudden appearance before them, leaning upon the other side of the kitchen island, though Sookie did not twitch a muscle.

"It wasn't a big deal."

"Your physician seems to think differently, coming all this way to speak with me."

Henrik sighed. Here was the conversation he'd meant to have, before the other vampires' presence sent the situation to hell in a hand basket. "I don't mean to meddle," insisted Henrik, winning a poisonous smile from the vampire. Naturally, Eric believed quite the other. "But you must let her heal."

"Very well. That is a simple thing."

"It is, isn't it?"

A low growl escaped Eric's throat for the doctor's tone, but Sookie's small hand reached across to clasp his, begging him with her eyes to behave. "Alright. It's settled then. I'll keep my blood to myself until summer break. I'll catch up, finish the semester with flying colors, and no one has to die over the matter. Satisfactory?"

Henrik pushed to his feet with a tired smile, seemingly amused by her optimism. "Perfectly," he agreed, patting her on the shoulder lightly. "Well, it's time I went on my way. I apologize for disturbing your home, Herr Northman."

"You came here by bus?"

Henrik paused at the vampire's inquiry. "_Ja_."

"And you will wait alone at the dark crossroads in the woods for the next service, after angering two of Stockholm's most powerful vampires?" Erik seemed almost amused by the thought, or perhaps by the image of the doctor being rended limb from limb.

"What other choice do I have?"

Perhaps it _was_ high time he bought a car.

"I'll drive you home," Sookie offered, sliding down from her stool, but Eric tossed a set of car keys Henrik's way.

Somehow, Henrik even managed to catch them.

"Even a fool's bravery should be rewarded," Eric explained when faced by the doctor's bewildered expression. "You can drive a stick?"

"I can…"

"Good. Then leave the keys in the glove box when you've arrived home. If you scratch it, I will be _cross_."

Henrik waited for the punch line, but after a few moments, it appeared the vampire truly intended to allow him to drive his insanely expensive German sports car home.

Yes, he _definitely _didn't know quite what to make of Eric Northman.

It wasn't until the growl of the M3 pulling away faded to Sookie's human ears, that Eric clasped his love's small hands in his, leaning across the island. "You will never do that again," he demanded, voice low, and Sookie found herself caught immobile in the ice blue intensity of his eyes.

Her heart jumped into her throat, as she wondered which of her infractions he spoke of. Interceding on a human's behalf, making demands of him before the other vampires? Saving a man's life, driving her car while fatigued, or failing to keep her vampire up to date on her health? Or perhaps what would be most damning to the possessive vampire, conversing with the doctor through minds and not words.

"_That_?" she questioned.

However, she found his answer surprised her deeply. "Perhaps once I thought I wanted you to submit to me completely, Sookie. Before…just, _before. _But tonight, I found it distasteful."

He seemed as surprised as her.

"I was very afraid," she confessed, bowing her head. "Desperate, if you will."

"You love Henrik. Maybe not the same way you love me, but it's true just the same."

Sookie froze, startled, which Eric found as incriminating as a yes.

"I haven't been unfaithful to you, Eric," she finally answered.

"Have you ever been tempted?"

"Henrik's never pressured me."

"Not what I meant."

She knew it wasn't, but would do almost anything not to discuss her feelings for Henrik with Eric. They simply _were_; she'd come to realize that so long as the doctor lived, she would love him, in her own way. There was nothing she could do about that. The most she could do was refrain from acting upon those feelings, and she'd done a stunning job resisting temptation thus far.

Sookie realized that beneath the ire, Eric felt insecure. The great Eric Northman, a man whose confidence normally knew no bounds, feared he would lose her to a human.

The telepath knew so very differently, and at long last, she could show him.

"I think I have a solution to this mess," mused Sookie, climbing over the island to sit before Eric, for once eye to eye with the towering Viking. Upon a closer examination, she could see a bit of the doctor's blood still stained Eric's chin. Her own blood ran cold with the thought of how close they'd come to disaster that night.

"Oh do you?" Happily, Eric pulled her close with hands behind her knees.

"Yes. But first, we need a hot bath. I'm cold, and dirty, and you have blood all over you."

Eric scooped her into his arms, carrying her downstairs, towards the oversized tub in his bedroom, mightily intrigued by what possible solution she could have, that would fix the damage done that night. The vampire felt raw, ragged at the seams, at least on the inside. Only Sookie could cause him to doubt himself in such a way.

Only Sookie seemed to possess that strange ability to say _no _to him, to leave him wanting. Why _hadn't _he torn the doctor to shreds? That night, he realized she'd changed him. That he'd spared the doctor, mostly, to spare her the pain of his deed. It was a consideration, a concession, he'd made only very few times for a woman throughout his long life.

Only for the most special, and Sookie?

He did not know if he'd ever loved _anyone_, the way he loved her, and this knowledge left him with a feeling of agonizing vulnerability.

The tub filled, Sookie relaxed back against Eric's broad chest, purring as his strong fingers worked over the contours of her muscles. The hot water felt as a dream to her aches and pains, and she felt her eyes sliding closed in the haven of his arms.

But Eric's voice woke her, the rumbling vibration pressed against her back, tone solemn in a way that alarmed her slightly. "I feel as though I've failed you, Sookie."

Frowning, the telepath turned in his arms, clearly not understanding. "That's strange. Because I was just thinking about how I can always count on you to be my hero. The champion in my corner, when no one else will stand for me."

Lightly, the vampire's fingers traced her brow, and the line of her pert little nose. Now, he could see the hollow in her cheeks, the dark circles beneath her eyes. How could he have missed this?

Pure enthusiasm, floating on cloud nine with his lover, while reality threatened her well being. Sloppy, and not like him at all. She was like a drug, and he cursed himself for indulging far too much, for being selfish with her.

Quite a rare thing, for the vampire, and if he had not known before, he knew _then _how deeply she'd ensnared him, without even trying.

Eric shook his head, waving away her praise. "Perhaps because it has been so very long since I have been responsible for the care of a fragile human, I missed the signs, but it is no excuse, lover. I-"

Sookie pressed two fingers to the vampire's lips, gently silencing him. "Enough. Stop blaming yourself. It was my fault. I didn't mean to deceive you, yet when I'm with you, I'm like a kid at a theme park. I want to try all the rides, and I want to taste _everything_, and I don't want to stop to rest."

"You have yet to _taste _everything of me." Perhaps it was Eric's favorite form of flirtation, _the innuendo, _yet his voice came quiet, almost _subdued_, and it stung Sookie's heart to hear her vampire speak in such a way.

They both needed healing, of one sort of another, and she felt she had the perfect solution.

"May I?" she asked, a mysterious smile curling her shapely lips. She ducked down to graze teeth against his neck, stealing his breath for just a moment.

Eric's large hand cupped the back of her head, gripping her hair lightly as he searched her expression for any sign of insincerity, his eyes suddenly flashing with the intensity of a coming storm. "Do not tease me. Not about that."

So very little remained sacred in his ravaged world, yet a blood bond ranked as the highest of privilege to his ancient sentiments. A privilege she'd shunned, time and time again.

"I'm not. I would like to taste you, Eric Northman."

A heartbeat passed, then two, as his ice blue eyes bore into hers.

"You want to be _mine_?"

His words came peppered with disbelief, while his expression ran to _raw_.

_This _was the token he desired, the gesture of trust he yearned for.

Sookie allowed the weight of _that _word settle over her. _Mine_. Four mere letters, yet she'd positively run from it all this time.

She found, with examination, that she was done running. There simply was no more fear left in her. Eric had killed it that night, proving that he would be a better man, a better vampire, than he ever had to be, for her.

She simply felt ready to leap, certain Eric would be her wings.

And so she answered in a whisper, "I am yours, Eric. So…take me."

Eric's hands trembled as they raised to cup the sides of her face, holding her as a thing of precious value. "This will not fade, Sookie. We will be _bonded_, well and truly. There will be no more hiding from each other."

Sookie closed her eyes, drawing a shuddering breath, and her soul poured forth. "Every time I see you, I feel like my heart will explode from all the love I hold for you, Eric. I love your complexities, and your courage, and your indomitable soul, and even your infuriating habits - - I want you to _feel_ it. I want you to know what it's like, from this side. In my shoes. Even when I'm furious with you, or have had a bad day, and am giving in to some petty human impulse to take it out on the one I love most, or if I'm working late at school with a certain doctor you hate and you're tempted not to trust me…I hope the fact that you _know _how I really feel will save us, where so many other lovers fall under the wheels."

By the end of her speech, Sookie found the vampire shaking his head at her, ever so slightly.

It was not the reaction she'd anticipated.

"What's wrong?" she dared ask.

"Nothing at all," he assured her, turning her in his arms once more, one strong arm holding her against his chest. "I simply…hmm." He felt at a loss for words, a rarity for the vampire. But he sought to speak truth with Sookie, and not offer masks, as he did to the rest of the world. And so he thought carefully upon this strange feeling she evoked within him. "There is so much love in you," he began again. "That I perhaps only just realized you do not love me any less, even as there are others who share your life. Your heart. Your light. But I am a creature of darkness, lover, and I covet your energy jealously. I would be the tree in the jungle that grows taller and broader than all others, just to lap up the lion's share of your golden rays."

Sookie gave a crooked smile, even if Eric could not see it. "Yes, you are the biggest, baddest tree in my forest," she chuckled.

But the vampire was not quite amused.

"Am I the tree you love most?"

The telepath tucked her head beneath his chin, inhaling the spicy, masculine scent of him. "Yes. And you are the great, strong tree I choose to make my home in. The one that's weathered the storms of a thousand years, and intends to laugh in the face of a thousand more that would try to fell it."

Eric's fangs flicked down, and the vampire bit deeply into his wrist, causing a stream of blood to trickle down his elbow, dripping into the water, snaking in twisting patterns before dissipating. "Then drink, my lover, and I hope that you will laugh with me for years more to come."

Sookie flicked out her tongue, teasing the bite marks in a way that tore a groan from deep in the vampire's chest, before latching on to the wound. His blood filled her mouth, thick and sweet and heady, so filled with power that she could feel his strength filling her immediately, fanning out through her body as it poured down her throat to her stomach. She drank deeply, and the vampire did not pull away, letting her take her fill until the wound healed over.

"More?" he asked gently, willing to open a vein again if she desired it. But Sookie shook her head no, a blissful smile upon her lips, her eyes closed as she leaned back against him.

At that moment, she couldn't be certain where she ended and the vampire began.

Or for that matter, the water around them, the tub, the room, the house, the world outside…everything felt so very _connected_, and she marveled at the experience, watching a myriad of colors play out before her eyes. A raw strength filled her bones, an intoxicating energy, and she felt as though she could leap over a building, stop a moving bus, or possibly even fly.

And then, there was Eric.

A line opened between them, and following it as a guiding thread through a cave, she arrived at the core that was her lover's being. He was a weight in her mind, vast as an ocean, and for a moment she felt as though she were drowning in the infinity of his accumulated experience. Relaxed against him, she flipped through his soul like the pages of a book, absorbing fragmented flashes of faces and names, battles and kisses and landscapes that took one's breath away.

Eric was a man who'd seen and done it all, and yet somehow, he still found her to be a unique and worthy woman. His love for her enveloped her like the softest of furs, warm and thick and protective, fierce and indestructible. She found she wanted to stay in that place, within him, forever, basking. He did not love as a human loved, and she found she did not fear it ever ending.

At that moment, her fragile human body fused with her vampire's courage and strength, she lay incapable of fearing anything at all.

**A/N: Worth the wait, I hope? Thank you everyone who's left a note of feedback, you're the best!**


	22. Glutton For Punishment

**A/N: Greetings, my darlings! We have a double chapter post tonight, because you guys have been so VERY patient with me, and I really can't convey how much I appreciate you sticking with this story, and the awesome feedback you leave in your reading wake. I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 21: Glutton For Punishment**

The next day, Henrik sat at his desk in his office, making a badly-needed attempt to catch up on paperwork. However, the doctor found it difficult to focus on anything, the image of Sookie going to her knees before the Viking vampire playing over and over before his eyes. That sick feeling still remained, a notion in his gut that he'd witnessed the beginning of something large and dangerous. Something that would change life as they knew it.

He could still feel her palm upon his cheek, her careful hands swabbing away the blood with the warm washcloth. Sookie was a fever he couldn't quite shake, a heat that lingered just below his skin. He wished he understood the magic that tied them; loathe as the doctor was to admit it, he doubted their connection could be explained by science alone.

"_Hej_. _Kaffe?_"

Henrik turned to find the subject of his thoughts walking through his doorway, two cups of coffee in hand. His jaw dropped at the sight of her, his heart caught in his throat. She positively glowed with a healthy radiance, her eyes bright as jewels, light hair thick and long and swinging behind her.

He knew at that moment she'd drank Eric's blood. Lots of it, and his heart lurched with the certainty she was lost. To herself, and maybe, to him.

Seemingly oblivious to the look Henrik paid her, Sookie set the coffee down upon his desk, perching upon the edge before him. "How's your chin?" She reached out to examine the fresh butterfly closure, and jumped for the way Henrik caught her hand in his, a startling intensity burning in his blue eyes.

"What does this mean?" he demanded in a whispered hush, eyes raking over her form, evaluating the changes in her. Upon squinting, he could see Sookie's skin glowed not just with illusion in the sunlight, but its very own luminescence. Her limbs seemed stronger, even her curves more…robust. Henrik turned the small hand he clasped to examine her nails, which were longer, strong, shining as glass.

"Nothing's changed, Henrik," she tried to assure him, even as she herself didn't exactly believe it.

"You have," he insisted, standing from his chair, cupping the side of her face with his other hand. Any trace of smile line and slight crows feet had been erased, replaced by smooth milky flesh, timeless and firm as a child's. Lengthened, her lashes now curled as black lace, lining eyes shining brilliant as sapphires in the sun. They pulled at him, much as a vampire's would have, were he capable of being glamoured. But it was simply the power of Sookie's beauty that pulled at him, and Henrik found his attention drawn to her plumped red lips next.

They called to him as a siren's song, and the urge to kiss her gripped him with such fervor, the doctor only managed to avoid it by stepping away, turning his back on the goddess before him.

Sookie, however, did not understand, only read it as rejection, and a certain panic welled within her heart, that she'd lost him completely. "Henrik, please," she pleaded, sliding arms around his torso, her head settled between his shoulder blades. "Please don't hate me."

"Never," the doctor assured her, gathering her hands in his, bowing his head to press reverent lips to her fingers. This felt much safer, than confronting her face to face. Her contours fit to his near perfectly in this way as in others, and it wasn't quite fair.

"I'm healed now. It was the best way."

"You're much more than healed, Sookie."

"Perhaps."

"Does he have more power over you now? Does a piece of you now belong to him?"

There it was, the million dollar question. And the answer no longer frightened her. Sookie came to realize she didn't want to exist in a vacuum. That pieces of hearts go out and come in like the tide, love found and lost and all in between. It was the human experience, and she felt safe enough to be a rock no longer.

"I love him, Henrik. He already had a piece of me, I think I've only just realized."

_ Like you have a piece of me._

She dared not say it aloud, but the thought rang through Henrik's mind, clear as a bell, winning a pained groan from deep in his chest.

"But you should…" The words caught in Sookie's throat. They were the right thing to say, and she'd been planning to say them all morning, but now- she found it _hurt_, somewhere above her heart, around her soul.

It didn't matter, she reminded herself.

It was hurting Henrik more, and he had to let her ago, even if just enough to make room for the possibility of his own happiness. The fact was, Eric wasn't going anywhere in her life, and even if he could accept her love for Henrik, she felt certain he would never share her.

"Should what?" The doctor gathered the courage, and slowly, he turned in her arms, daring to face her once more.

He found her beauty just as arresting now, as a few moments ago, but the tension had left him, the fear of doing something untoward slipping away, replaced by a new calm he himself did not quite understand. As long fingers slid through her tresses, Sookie attempted to speak again, even as his soothing touch played hell with her reason and her resolve. "You should find…"

Sookie froze as she watched Henrik descend upon her, even as he moved slowly, allowing her plenty of time to duck away if she wished. But she stood completely incapable of movement, just two of his fingers behind her ear reeling her in as surely as a fish upon a hook. The kiss began gently, with just a brush of lips and the best of intentions. But memory soon got the best of both of them - - they had not allowed themselves this, in the flesh, since before Eric's arrival in Sweden **- -** Henrik's arms circled around her back, lifting her to her tiptoes, pulling her close as he delved inside to explore the warm recesses of her mouth. It was a kiss that curled Sookie's toes, and her hands clenched upon the fabric of his shirt, a small whine escaping her in the necessity to draw away and the desire to stay for hours more.

Breathless, the pair finally separated, touching foreheads in their inability to part completely just yet. "You were about to say I should find someone else?" asked Henrik with a teasing lilt to his tone, even as the thought wrenched his insides.

"That's what I was _attempting_ to say, yes."

"Do you still think so?"

Sookie wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling the doctor into an embrace, burying her face in his chest because she couldn't quite bear to look into his eyes at that moment. "This isn't fair to you. I can't give you…what you deserve."

"Let me worry about that."

"You're a glutton for punishment."

Henrik laughed; somehow, he did not feel so hopeless right then.

"We will see."

**OOOIIIOOO**

"You did _what?_" Inga exclaimed, eyes gone wide as saucers as Henrik imparted some of his misadventure from the night previous. "How stupid are you, going into a vampire's lair all alone? A vampire who wants you dead, no less."

"That's not exactly true…"

Upon seeing the butterfly closure on his chin, Inga had demanded an explanation of her friend. They walked the darkened streets of Stockholm now, on their way for a coffee to soften the tale.

"For someone who reads minds, Henrik, you are far too charitable. He wants Sookie and you want Sookie- - therefore, he most certainly wants you gone."

"Well, he could have buried me a thousand times over, but he didn't. He isn't a rampaging monster immune to reason, Inga. What was I to do? Take the SWAT team with me?"

"So you reasoned with him before or after he made you bleed?"

"That was the other vampire, actually." Henrik touched fingers to his chin in remembrance, though wisely, decided not to mention it had been the vampire King of Sweden he would be remembering every day he looked in the mirror from here on out. "Well, Sookie's fine now."

"Sookie is pumped up on V. It's not quite the same. She glows now, Henrik. In the dark."

"Perhaps it's not a traditional method of healing, but it was effective."

Inga paid him an incredulous look, pausing to study him closely. "How are you taking this so calmly? This is the woman you love we're talking about."

"Is it that obvious?" the doctor sighed. A snowflake drifted past, an omen of weather to come, and his eyes followed as it floated to the ground.

"To me, perhaps. And she loves you too."

"It doesn't matter. She loves the vampire more."

"This isn't fair," sighed Inga, burying her hands in her pockets. "Without you, Sookie would still be in Louisiana, probably waiting tables, and doing vampire bidding, without the slightest inkling she's capable of so much more. You were the first to believe in her. You gave her a fresh start. She should be with you."

"I can't look at it that way, Inga. Fresh starts are what we do at the center, for the telepaths and others who need us. She owes me nothing in that regard. Were I to hold that over her head, I would be no better than the vampires who wheel and deal with people's lives for their own amusement."

"Well…maybe you could use it to steer her in the right path, at least. She's making the wrong decision."

At times, Inga could be quite opinionated, and Henrik smiled slightly at the self-assurance of her decree.

"It's her decision to make."

"You keep saying that, as though you've given up. Have you?"

Henrik paused for a heartbeat, flashing back on his interlude in his office with Sookie. At the thought of her lips on his, his hand involuntarily clenched in his pocket. "Not exactly."

"And what does that mean?"

"I don't know."

Inga huffed, exasperated with her friend.

"_That attitude will get you nowhere_," rasped a voice from the shadows.

Both Inga and Henrik froze, as a dark figure separated itself from the building just ahead.

"Ah, you again?" asked Henrik, sounding annoyed, even as his heart pounded in his chest. He pulled Inga back, standing slightly in front of her, for all the good it would do.

"You never called." The doctor could hear the smile in the figure's voice, even as its face remained completely obscured by shadow.

"You could take it as a sign, and leave us in peace."

"So hostile," the shadow snickered, circling loosely about them. Inga's fingers tightened upon Henrik's arm, as they circled with their strange visitor, not giving him their backs. "When we share a common goal. I could make Eric Northman go away, but I can't do it alone."

"We won't help you."

"Pity, that." The shadow raised a hand clad in black glove, and began tracing lines through the air. Slowly, a drawing took shape before them, glowing and hazy as a dream, seeming to be spun of spider's webs and moondust. "Because if you would take the offensive, _this _could be yours." The shadow man waved a hand, and a vision of Sookie appeared before them, radiant as ever. A wide smile cracked her features, a giggle, and she tried to run, before a tall masculine figure caught up with her, gathering her into his embrace. They spun, and one could see it was not Eric, but Henrik's own likeness. Voices murmured from the vision, whispered words of love and devotion.

Henrik had _thought _this strange creature to be a vampire, but he'd never heard tale of a vampire who could do _this_.

"A fine parlor trick," grumbled Henrik, even as his chest clenched painfully, watching he and Sookie in the air before them.

"It is but a _version _of what could be."

A shriek distracted the humans, drawing attention back to the vision again, in time so see a small child streak across the stage, long fair hair flying behind her as she pounced upon Henrik and Sookie in their warm embrace. _Papa, mamma, I want to go swimming! _she announced as Henrik swung her up to sit on his shoulders. The trio turned from the audience, walking away with arms around each other, until the vision faded into a wisp of vapor.

A ball of something clogged Henrik's throat, that he suspected to be his heart. At least at that moment, it took every fiber of his self control, not to ask, _how can I have __**that**__?_

"All I need is something of Eric," urged the shadow, when neither Henrik nor Inga spoke. "Get me that, and I will do the rest."

"Get it yourself."

"Can't, I'm afraid. Let me help you. I even promise not to kill him."

"_Go away_."

The shadow moved too quickly for the eye to follow, suddenly an inch from Henrik, an inhuman growl emitting from the recesses of the hooded cloak. The doctor jumped, as did Inga, and the coppery smell of old blood wafted their way.

Yes, a vampire, but also something more.

"You're being a fool, but you'll change your mind."

It disappeared into what seemed like thin air, but Henrik suspected it merely flew away.

"What the fuck was that?" swore Inga, fingers still gripping Henrik's arm as claws.

"A false promise, I'm certain."

Later, alone in his loft apartment, Henrik drew the plain white card from its hiding place in a book. He stared at it long and hard, though unseeingly, not quite able to chase away the visions of a normal life with Sookie from the eaves of his mind. The sweetness of possibility. A fresh start, without the vampire around.

They could…they could do anything they wanted.

Absolutely anything.

That dark bastard knew what strings to pull, that was for certain.

Before temptation could sink its teeth any deeper, the doctor lit a match, burned the card over the toilet bowl, and flushed the ashes down the hatch.


	23. How Sweet It Is

**Chapter 22: How Sweet It Is **

In the wee hours of the morning, Sookie slipped through the front door of the castle upon the hill, exhausted to the bone. Her heels clicked upon the hardwood floors as she made her way across the foyer to the living room, scanning the shadowed dwelling. The lights were off, and no sign of her vampire lover greeted her arrival.

Disappointed, the telepath went to stand before the great window, staring out into the night. She knew she should go to her bedroom, change out of her black dress, take a shower, and collapse into their soft bed, but she couldn't quite bring herself to move. Her thoughts tumbled over her day, and the two previous.

She pondered the fragility of humanity, and our inherent inability to cope with truth. How in one way or another, everyone on the planet lies to themselves, just to face another day. Just to stand the sight of their own face in the mirror.

Sookie did not know Henrik had a fraternal twin, until three days ago, when she'd been in the room with him as he received the news Lena Jurgenson swallowed a full bottle of Xanax, because she could no longer stand the world marching its thoughts through her head.

A coward's way out, thought Sookie, clenching her fists.

In her escape to oblivion, Lena also left behind a little girl, four year old Annika, who also bore the gift of telepathy. Already without a father, the enchanting young girl would now face life without a mother as well, destined to be raised by grandparents who meant well but could not fathom a telepath's reality.

They'd done their best for their children, Henrik had explained, but his mother usually strove to ignore the fact she'd borne telepathic twins, and his father, an industry CEO, solved problems by throwing money at them.

Both Henrik and Lena had been bullied as children, gotten into fights with those who branded them as freaks. Caused minor trouble, just for the thrill and the attention. Dr. Ibsen found Henrik as a teen, and changed his life, showing him how to control his gifts, opening the door to a better way to live. What would have become of him, had Dr. Ibsen not stepped in for him, been a father in more ways than his own had ever managed?

If he'd drawn any conclusions from his life's work, it was that telepaths had to look after their own. No one else could ever quite fathom the burden.

Henrik had tried to reach out to Lena for a decade, but she'd rejected him at every turn, continuing down a path of alcoholism. Tall and beautiful as her brother, she'd pursued a modeling career, opening the door to exposure to heavier oblivions. Despite of it, she'd done fairly well, until becoming pregnant with Annika.

After the funeral, back at the Jurgenson family home, Sookie and Henrik had lain in the guest room, a sleeping child between them, the third story of the night finally successful in handing her into the arms of Morpheus. They'd kept her close the past three days, shielding her from the pain and evil thoughts of her mother- - things no four year old should have to hear of the person she loved most in the world.

Annika's small hand clasped in Sookie's, she looked upon the child, stroked her head soothingly, hair fine and white as cornsilk. Something fiercely protective welled in her chest, surprising her even as she understood it to be an innate maternal instinct. Something in falling in love with a vampire she'd never thought she would have use for.

Sookie wondered what would become of her. She saw more of herself in the child's plight than she would ever wish on anyone.

Under different circumstances, the scene could have been too sweet to stand, Sookie's head upon Henrik's shoulder, the child between them. His arm around Sookie, he'd stared at the ceiling, contemplating how to spend as much time as possible with his niece, on top of running the telepath center with Ibsen. How to do right by her, where he'd failed with his twin. Could he adopt her? Probably not. Not alone.

He imagined himself turning to Sookie at that moment, asking her to marry him over little Annika's sleeping form. He thought of the shadow man, and the future he'd suggested in his vision.

_But a _version _of what could be. _

He would have been a liar, had he claimed the sight of Sookie taking little Ana under her wing, holding her close and playing games of distraction, did not move him. Did not cause an ache of longing, just over his heart, for things he could not have with her. A family. A future together. For two months after their near fiasco in Eric's basement, and the blistering kiss in his office that followed, she still remained true to her vampire, closer than ever.

And true to her promise, she'd finished the semester off with flying colors. At least that, he couldn't condemn. The focus vampire blood enabled was a mind-boggling thing; she could breeze through a book in a matter of minutes, and retain nearly all the information within.

Sookie had reached across to take his hand, inspiring a feeling of calm relief he'd come to crave the past three days. He fancied he could easily become addicted to it, as morphine or some other powerful pain killer.

He would lose himself in her happily, if she would only allow it.

_It takes a village to raise a child, _Sookie had reminded him. _She'll have you, and me, and everyone at the center. She's not going to turn out like Lena._

Sookie assured him with such confidence, he couldn't help but believe her. Believe _in _her.

Soon, his mother had entered the room, shooing them out to put Annika into her pajamas. She'd smiled at them knowingly, and both knew her mind, and her motherly wishes, that Henrik would settle down with a nice girl like Sookie. Froken Jurgenson liked the American telepath, knew she made her son happy, and wouldn't have minded welcoming her into the family.

_I should go_, had said Sookie silently, as they wandered down the dark halls of the Jurgenson family mansion, lined with fading family portraits, expensive seventeenth century furniture, and stuffed animals. Four generations of Jurgensons had inhabited the home, made wealthy in the steel industry. Despite his achievements as a doctor, Henrik still succeeded in disappointing his father by choosing a path in medicine, not business.

_Don't go_. Henrik turned Sookie's face up to his, a single gentle hand engulfing her cheek. _Come to bed with me. _

Sookie's heart lurched with the thought. With the urge. And she could feel his fear, of being alone._ That's not…I can't… _Even in her thoughts, she came across as flustered.

_Just to sleep_, he specified. _To dream_. _For a few hours._ Without some distraction, he knew visions of Lena would haunt him, and the thought terrified the usually steadfast doctor. In Sookie's arms, he could dream of her instead, even if she still remained out of his true reach.

Sookie regarded Henrik, dressed to the nines in black slacks and a crisp black shirt that accented broad shoulders and trim waist to perfection. All just a shell; his insides in utter disorder. Here he stood before her, the most vulnerable she'd ever beheld him. Usually, he was the strong one. The one who carried them both through whatever disaster. Slapped danger in the face to see them through. She'd been there for him the past few days, and she realized he needed her still.

_Lead the way, _she agreed, and taking his hand, she allowed the doctor to lead her to his room for a few hours of peace amidst the din.

**OOOIIIOOO**

Eric regarded Sookie from across the living room, having entered soundlessly after sensing her return. He'd sensed something…_something_, in the woods around the house, and with a cautious suspicion had gone to investigate.

Nothing caught his eye, nose, or ears, however, and so he dismissed it as a product of his own wandering mind. Though Sookie had practically moved into his home for the summer break, he'd seen nearly hide nor hair of her the past three days. And even under such circumstances as these, his mind wandered, when she spent time with the doctor.

She looked lovely at the window, her figure outlined in silver moonlight, wearing a black dress and heels still leftover from the funeral earlier that day. He sensed a sorrow through the bond he could not exactly understand; it felt far too strong, for a woman she had not known. Eric found he did not understand many of the emotions that galloped through the bond that connected them. In theory, they were closer, and yet sometimes she seemed even more of a mystery.

He enveloped his telepath in his arms from behind, breathing deeply of her. She smelled of the chemical death of funeral homes, of the doctor, and strangely, of a child.

Sookie did not jump, having sensed his presence as he'd entered the house. It was rare that he could sneak up on her these days, which she found she almost missed.

Kissing her cheek, the vampire tasted the salt of silent tears rolling down.

"You mourn this woman who you never met?" Eric asked, surprising even himself with his desire to understand.

"A little," Sookie answered honestly, leaning back against Eric's sturdy frame, rooting herself in reality in her connection to him. "Madness is a pitfall waiting for any telepath's misstep. I could have been her, in just slightly different circumstances."

Eric, however, disagreed. "It is not so."

"No?" Sookie thought back upon many lonely nights spent in her room as a child and a teenager, wishing desperately to just be _normal_. To not know every mundane little thought buzzing in people's brains. There had been dark hours, and in those times, Sookie couldn't be so sure of what she might have done to stop the telepathy, without Gran's love assuring her from the bedroom down the hall.

"No. She was weak. She gave up. And you are far too much of a fighter, to ever give in to such urges."

"Mmm," came Sookie's mumbled reply, and seeing her unconvinced, the vampire tugged her to follow him back to the massive leather sofa. Curling up against him, her head upon his broad chest, helped calm the darkness that churned within her. The bond spread a certain warmth through their bodies, an ember that glowed brightly between them.

"She left behind a little girl," Sookie continued quietly. "She abandoned her own daughter."

"Then she was also selfish. And a coward. This girl you speak of. Is she also a telepath?"

"Yes. She has a long road ahead of her."

Ah, and now he understood Sookie's empathy.

"Are you sure it is not the girl you see yourself in, Sookie?"

"There are…similarities, yes."

"And what will become of her?"

"She'll live with her grandparents, and Henrik too. She'll be taken care of."

"It smells as though you were the one who cared for her today."

His tone came completely neutral, and Sookie couldn't tell if he felt threatened by it- - by _children. _

The one thing in her life he couldn't fulfill.

Once, Sookie had thought she wanted children, badly. To fill the shoes of a good Southern housewife, makin' babies and bakin' biscuits- -none of it seemed so important now. A cultural norm she'd shed as she fled her home state. Now…there was no norm to follow.

She was free to do as she liked. And though she wasn't _quite _sure where she wanted to go, she knew for certain her place in Eric's arms and a college education to be an excellent start.

"I did," she affirmed.

"And how did you find motherhood for a day?"

The unsaid hung in the air between them. _Is that what you will want next? _It would be a fairly predictable impulse, for a maturing woman of Sookie's age, to feel the pangs in her womb. The clock of her own mortality, her ability to create life, ticking.

"Exhausting," she answered with a weak smile. She had enjoyed her time with Annika, playing simple games to distract her, keeping her safe from evil thoughts. How does one explain to a four-year old, that her mommy wouldn't be coming back?

Soon, she would understand, all too well.

"It was an interesting day, though, being in a house surrounded by several humans who vaguely resemble you."

Eric lay completely still below her, his hand in her hair stilling in its soothing path. For a moment, he could have been made of stone, and Sookie wondered if she'd misstepped in this change of subject.

"It is strange for me, this idea of having a living family," he finally spoke. "For so long, I had assumed…" Sookie had noticed, from the very beginning, Eric retained a reluctance to speak of his family as a mortal man. She propped her chin upon her hand to regard him, in time to catch a haunted expression surfacing upon his handsome features, there and gone like ripples in a pool.

"Tell me of your life as a mortal man, Eric," she requested. "Tell me about your family." Only in a relationship with a vampire, could it not seem strange in this point of their lives, to have not already heard these stories. But for a being who had lived a thousand years…much ground remained to be covered. And finally, it felt as though they had all the time in the world to walk the paths of his memories.

Small tastes came Sookie's way, when they shared blood, but they were only flashes of his vast life. Photographs without captions or context, and Sookie found she hungered to _know _his stories as voraciously as she craved the rest of him.

Eric's fingers resumed their path through her long tresses, inspiring a shudder of delight as he brushed the nape of her neck, traced small circles upon the sensitive skin behind her ear. At times like this, the bond linking them so surely, it seemed as though skin were the only thing keeping them separate.

Enough time passed in silence, that Sookie assumed her request to be rebuffed, the vampire reluctant to share for whatever reason.

However, Eric merely searched for a place in his vast timeline to start. He burrowed through the trove of his memories, seeking out the very beginnings of his life, a time before fangs filled his mouth, and the sun not a fabled thing of memory.

When his voice broke the stillness at last, Sookie jumped slightly for the rumble in his chest that vibrated against her ear. "The first thirty years of my life, Sookie, I spent mostly in a village on the west coast of Sweden. We fished and farmed, and sometimes went on trading expeditions. Sometimes, these expeditions ran to raiding and exploration. Mostly, life was simple in those times, but harsh. My father was the chieftain of our band, and as the eldest son, when he passed, so became I.

"I had a wife, and six children, though only four survived their first winter." Eric's hold upon Sookie tightened, as the next words left him, his voice lowered to a whispered hush, "And then, in my thirtieth year, my entire village was razed to the ground by a vampire who used werewolves as servants. I and some of the other warriors had been abroad - - we returned to find all we knew burned to the ground, our loved ones mauled and gnawed upon or drained."

Sookie lay completely still upon him, listening to his story. And now she understood why he chose to leave these parts of his past buried. He went on, "I went after the wolves and this vampire, with my war party. After two whole years, we finally caught up with him, though in the end I was the only survivor, relatively. He made me vampire, and kept me as his slave for quite some time. But eventually, I took my revenge."

"You killed him?" Sookie had understood a bond between maker and child too powerful to allow such a thing.

"It was not easy," Eric acknowledged. "But you know how determined I can be, when I want something." Large hands spilled down her back, tracing her curves through the black dress. He did not want Sookie's pity- - it stirred something within him he would rather leave buried, and so he hoped to take their night in a different direction.

"Eric…" she protested lightly, as he slowly began sliding the zipper of her dress down her spine. It seemed wrong on a certain level, that his touch inspired such heat between her legs, just after imparting the tale of his slaughtered loved ones a millennium ago.

"Enough talk of death, lover. Let us remind each other how sweet it is, to be alive."

He tried not to think on how Sookie's hair sliding through his fingers felt almost exactly as Aude's, his late wife. It was at this moment that Sookie felt the wave of sorrow and regret overtake Eric, and without the bond she never could have guessed.

His hands paused in their exploration of her body, as she sat up upon him, cradling the sides of his face in her two small hands. She knew he seduced her as distraction now. That he chose not to think of his family, because their memory and untimely deaths still stirred such powerful emotions within him. Emotions that could destroy a vampire over time, render him weak, should he succumb to them.

And when he met her eyes, he knew she knew. There was some relief in this new phenomenon; that now, he could no longer hide from her behind the walls he'd built against the world.

Finally, someone would know him.

"You would think a thousand years would be long enough to dull the pain," he said through a grim smile, trying to make light of it. But Sookie could not be fooled, and pressed gentle kisses to his cheek and jaw.

"No time is enough," she whispered against his ear. "Not if you truly loved." She herself felt certain the sting from the loss of Gran would never fade.

"I have always felt that I failed them," he confided quietly, his hold upon Sookie tightening, enveloping her narrow ribcage. "Had we left a day earlier…who knows what might have happened."

"You probably would have died with them. Or, become a vampire that much sooner."

"Mmm. Perhaps."

"Would you have really lived your life differently?" asked Sookie. "Would you trade your thousand years, to have lived a normal, mortal life with your family?"

"You ask difficult questions this night, Sookie."

"It's been a difficult couple of days."

Eric thought upon his youngest daughter's sweet face, and the way Ulrika would squeal with delight when he tossed her tiny body up into the air when they played. Dag, his firstborn, always so serious, peering out through his mother's stormy eyes. And the twins Per and Leif, who'd constantly played tricks on the others, mischievous and playful as their father.

And so with a rare candor, he admitted, "I would not have traded my children's lives, for my own immortality. Though I mourned my wife's death, it was their loss that has haunted me all these years. I have heard historians claim that parents were not so attached to their offspring hundreds of years ago, simply because life could be lost so easily, but it was never so." The Viking gave a heavy sigh, that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his lungs, straight from his soul. "And yet, I have cheated death all these years, to be rewarded with a prize such as you. Fate has not been so cruel."

Slowly, his fingers trailed up her thigh, beneath the hem of her dress to find the leading lines of garters below. "You should come meet your family, Eric," Sookie suggested. "The ones that yet - -" A blond eyebrow quirked with approval at her underpinnings, and Sookie squirmed as he tested the garter's elasticity, snapping it lightly against her thigh. "Live…" she attempted to continue, "Would probably be quite interested. You're not so alone as you think."

Eric nearly gave some formula remark, along the lines that he did not fear being alone, that his family no matter how removed did not interest him in the least. But she would have seen through it all, and so he spared her the lie. More and more, they were doing away with the needless pretenses most couples filled their interaction with.

"I might like that," he simply answered, and drew her down into a kiss. This time, she was more than happy to succumb to the pleasures of his wandering hands. Slowly, Eric pushed her skirt up her thighs, to reveal the underwear that fascinated him so. "Tell me you wore these in anticipation of this moment with me, and not- -"

"I don't _own _sensible pantyhose, Eric, thanks to you," she interrupted him, cutting jealous speculation short. The telepath lifted her arms in invitation, and the Viking lifted her dress above her head, finding his mouth watering for the sight before him. Still, she smelled of the doctor, and he felt a burning need to obliterate Henrik's scent from her, and not with soap.

"A small but noteworthy achievement on my part," he gloated with an infuriating smile. Eric's hands traveled north, tracing the lines of her garter belt, palming the curves of her hips, tracing the dip of her waist. Sookie sighed for the sensations his clever fingers evoked in their explorations across her skin, her head tilting back slightly. Suddenly, she didn't feel so tired anymore.

The vampire studied the lace details upon the cups of her bra, thumbnails grazing her nipples through the fabric, inspiring the corresponding counterpoint that played out between her thighs to swell with desire. "The sun will rise soon," she sighed as he palmed her breasts, squeezing gently.

"I can stay awake well past sunrise underground," he reminded her. "In fact, I very much intend to, this morning."

Much to his surprise, Sookie stood from his lap, walking away from him towards the hall. The vampire sat frozen with hunger as he watched her swaying gait, her heels stabbing the carpet, then clicking upon the hardwood floors. She'd always been beautiful, a healthy young woman, at the peak of her prime. But the little extra addition of his blood into the mix had awoken something _primal _within her, and he delighted in the way she teased him, dared him to hunt her.

Sookie threw a sultry look over her shoulder, blue eyes glittering darkly from beneath a curtain of lashes, that sent the vampire's blood to boil.

She made it nearly to the stairs, before Eric pounced upon her, pinning her hands above her head against the wall. "Beautiful little Sookie. What's a vampire to do with a morsel like you?" he asked with a grin, fangs fully bared. But there was not a drop of fear left in Sookie as playfully she struggled against him, wondering what exactly he could have in mind for them. When the vampire neared close enough she playfully bit at his shoulder, winning a groan of delight.

"Oh, you'll pay for that," Eric promised her, ducking down to devour her lips in a hungry kiss.

He pulled away too soon for Sookie's taste, and she strained against him, fighting to claim his lips again, a plaintive cry escaping her lips already swollen from his kisses.

Eric laughed against the skin of her neck, sucking gently upon the pulse. "Patience, little one," he advised, ducking lower still. Sookie's knees trembled as his tongue dipped into her bra, seeking out the sensitive center of her breast as a shark hunts a wound in the sea. He paid the other an equal attention, and through a heated growl from deep in his chest, Sookie heard him swear something similar to _perfekt. _

Soon, Eric held both her wrists in his one, and returned to kissing her senseless, his lips playing a delicate game of chase with her own. Once more, Sookie's knees nearly gave out from beneath her, as his other hand trailed down her body, to find the moist center that wept for his touch. A finger slipped inside her, and the vampire hissed in anticipation for the strength with which her most intimate muscles gripped him.

That too left too soon, yet the telepath gave no protest as Eric slid to his knees before her, mouth leaving a heated trail down her body as he went. "These…must go," decided the vampire, tearing away the panties that offended him so. His hands held Sookie's hips, anticipating her weakness as his tongue delved to lave at the rosy bud already so swollen and eager for his attention. Sookie's head rocked back against the wall for the sudden pleasure that assaulted her nervous system, a haggard cry escaping her.

She certainly would have fallen, had the vampire not supported her.

His clever tongue sent her careening towards the edge of orgasm, only to draw back at the last moment, denying her once more.

"Eric!" she protested, only to be swept up into his arms, and carried down the stairs to their bedroom.

The vampire happily laughed at her impatience, and lay her gently upon the bed. Hungrily, she watched him as he drew his black t-shirt above his head, drinking in the sight, basking unabashedly in his physical glory.

Some moments, she couldn't help but wonder if Michelangelo had based _David _in all his perfection upon Eric's athletic form. This was one of those, as her eyes swept across the span of his broad shoulders, his muscled chest, pinched waist and the proud bounty below, his powerful thighs, sculpted legs that stretched on and on in infinite perfection.

A myriad of emotions welled in Sookie's heart, the strongest of which tying between love and _wonder_. How was it, that he wanted her? This vampire who'd walked the earth a thousand nights, could be content in this country mansion, living a fairly normal life, with her at his side? Still, even now, at times she did not _quite _understand.

The balance seemed _off_, and she feared just a little, how reality would right itself in time.

Eric reveled in her admiration, but his face fell slightly at the twinge of uneasiness that passed through the bond. "What could possibly worry you, lover, at a moment so perfect as this?" he asked, stepping out of his jeans.

But Sookie shook her head, offering the vampire a genuine smile. "Just giving in to the human weakness of musing on permanence, is all. Nothing new. Come here," she requested , holding out her hand.

Eric crawled upon the bed, settling atop her.

"You fear this happiness won't last?" he asked, smoothing her hair away from her face. His arms circled her shoulders, and she loved this, these moments when she felt completely engulfed by him, his body and essence all around her.

Sookie had other things in mind than conversation, and ground her hips against Eric's desire, urging him to enter her. Happily, the vampire obliged, and still the way he absolutely filled her pulled a gasp from Sookie's throat.

"Well?"

She didn't know how he could think, at a time like this.

"I don't know," she groaned, as the vampire worked his way inside her, until he bumped the entrance of her womb.

"It won't," he assured her, point blank, punctuating his assertion with a thrust. "Something will test us. Our world will be turned upside down, burned to the ground. Tomorrow, or years from now."

His thrusts came faster now, and Sookie buried her face in his chest, thinking on how she loved this intimate view, the chiseled outline of his shoulder and neck, muscles tense at work upon the task at hand.

"Comforting," she mumbled against his skin.

A telltale warmth began to spread between her legs, and Sookie knew she would not be long for this round.

She gasped as he flipped them, putting her on top. The angle was sharper, more intense, and her inner muscles began to clench upon him. Eric had other ideas, however, clasping her hips, slowing their pace once more. He sat up, holding Sookie in the cradle of his body, a hand upon her cheek drawing her eyes to his. "What comforts me is my certainty that we will prevail. That always, our love will be strong enough to build anew. This is how I love you, Sookie Stackhouse. This is how I want you."

Sookie held Eric's hand to her face, caught in his eyes and she had no words to answer him with, her grip tightening upon him as a sudden wave of emotion threatened to drown her. If love was the point in which you could no longer breathe, Sookie was suffocating. Were it a color, it would have been a bright, tiger lily red. An event, a volcanic eruption, a magma flow scalding and unstoppable, filling her heart and the forgotten corners of her soul, pouring through the bond to fill Eric too.

He did not need words. He preferred the certainty through the bond, to paltry sounds assigned significance as language. Words could lie, but their bloodtie could not. And so he flipped them once more, never once breaking their gaze as he took them down the path of glory and into sweet, sweet oblivion.


	24. Family Ties

**Chapter 24: Family Ties**

Summer that year flew by in a blur for Sookie. She filled her days with reading up for the fall semester, and often playing with little Annika, having become a staple in the young girl's life. Her nights, she filled with Eric, and they went too quickly in the short darkness of Scandinavian summer.

Much time, they spent underground.

It was not until the crisp chill of fall entered the air that arrangements were made for Eric to meet his human descendants, the Jurgensen clan.

"Nervous?" Sookie asked, the bond clamped down tight as Eric stood for ten minutes before his closet, seeming lost as to what to wear, a towel cinched about his trim waist. Truly, she did not mind the view, though she wondered at why he guarded himself so closely this evening.

"At a loss," he admitted. At a loss, for what impression he meant to give, and though it seemed frivolous, he'd learned clothing always lent a great deal to this. Would he be aggressive in red? A foreboding tower in black? Appear less a threat in blue, or neutral in gray?

"Oh, how about _lavender_," she teased with eyebrows raised high, pulling a dress shirt of said color from the closet.

Truthfully, he could wear it _quite_ well, Sookie knew. She had yet to see him push the ultimate boundary of with pink, and doubted she would live to see the day.

The vampire expressed his opinion with a playful narrowing of eyes, and stole a kiss while reaching around her. "Perhaps I will match you," he decided, and tugged a crisp white shirt from its hanger.

White, neutral. They would be forced to draw their conclusions from elsewhere.

Sookie looked a vision in a white sweater dress that hugged her ample curves, her summer tan still glowing, and brown leather boots that rose to her knees. Eric wanted to devour her for the _second _time that night, but sadly it would have to wait.

The drive to the Jurgensen mansion passed in silence, Eric manipulating the gears of the M3 with a pensive expression written across his handsome features. Sookie wanted to comfort him, assure him they would love him, but knew such paltry things were not _quite _right for the situation.

A thousand years is a _long _time for a family to take shape, for genes to dilute. She wondered if Eric would feel any connection at all, after such a jump in time.

Sookie barely managed a single knock upon the front door, before the heavy wooden portal swung open, a small ball of energy barreling through to latch upon her. "Sookie!" cried Annika happily, blue-green eyes shining alight with excitement. "Finally, you're here! Did you bring Adele? Uncle Henrik bought me a new sled, you have to come see! It's red and white with a string and you can steer it with your feet and do you think it will snow tonight? Can I use it on the hill at your house because our yard is flat-"

The child paused in her tirade - - peering shyly around Sookie, she regarded the tall man beside her most beloved playmate, lips pressed in a sudden silence. Henrik, his father Björn, and mother Sara, all came to stand in the hall, quietly regarding the scene and curious what Annika would make of the vampire.

Eric himself felt frozen on the spot at the sight of the pretty child in Sookie's arms, something buried deep within him clenching painfully. Her fine features, her delicately drawn eyes, the shape of her mouth, all _very _much reminded him of another young child he'd once held dear to his heart.

"_I can't hear him_," Annika whispered in Sookie's ear.

"_That's because he's a vampire_," Sookie whispered back. "_But he's very nice. I like him a lot." _Eric's lips curled in a slight but warm smile, as though to back his love's claim, regarding the child as curiously as she did him.

And the evening went on. Introductions were made, and stories shared. A tour made of the portrait gallery and old photo albums were pulled from dusty storage, to regard other relatives of the Jurgensen past.

Henrik remained mostly silent throughout the encounter, watching Eric interact with his parents. He liked when his father was like this, a real human being, warm and laughing and not filling the mechanical and ruthless persona of a top CEO.

He liked this side of the vampire as well, and somehow suspected the civility to not be a show, but a removal of a mask. No one here could hurt him, there was no threat. Just human family, no matter how removed.

More and more, his dislike of the vampire was fading.

Strangely, on Eric's side, the feeling came mutual. Slowly, they were accepting each other, their places in Sookie's life, and now perhaps even in each others.

Sara seemed to regard the vampire suspiciously, though she put on a polite face, a practice she'd perfected over the years as the wife of a steel CEO frequently featured in the papers. Björn, however, quickly warmed to the vampire, listening with fascination to the Viking's accounts of various events of history. Though the father's features also vaguely resembled Eric, as did his height, his thinning hair quite obviously once burned a fiery red.

Eric found this curious, but did not quite settle upon a conclusion to the mystery of which woman in his life begat this line of humans, until taking a tour of the portrait gallery. It was the oil-on-canvas rendition of a great-great aunt Thyra, in a painting two meters tall. Though she wore the cumbersome eveningwear of the day, the artist still managed to convey the fact she'd been a voluptuous woman, and a great beauty. A riot of red hair spilled around a heart-shaped face, humorous green eyes daring the viewer to meet her gaze.

"She was something of a legend to the family, almost a mystery," Henrik explained. "A strong personality, especially for a woman in those days. She would come and go, traveling as she pleased. Some argued she never really existed, though others swore they'd had conversation or dinner with her at some point in their lives. But she has no place in the family tomb - - no one knows what happened to her."

"Probably eaten by a lion," Björn had mused. "Supposedly she had a farm in Africa - -"

"At the foot of the Ngong hills?" asked Eric with a toothy smile. He noticed Sara staring at his teeth, searching for fangs that remained carefully tucked away.

"Indeed," chuckled Björn. "As Henrik said, she's the stuff of legend. Over time, the stories have grown - - we're not sure what's real anymore. Why let truth stand in the way of a good story, and all that?"

Eric imagined he might have _quite _the tale to tell of a woman who looked remarkably similar to this one, perhaps _even _Thyra herself, judging by the uncertainty of their accounts.

He'd always had his suspicions of _her_, had thought on her many times throughout the millennium he'd lived, but never had he dreamed there'd been _a child_.

In the living room, as the adults spoke, Annika ran circles around the house, pulling Sookie into her games, darting back and forth to produce toys to show a captive audience. Slowly, with every pass she neared a bit closer to Eric, peering from across the room, spying at him from behind her grandfather's wingback chair, until finally, she appeared at Eric's side by the arm of the couch.

Sookie watched his interaction with the child curiously, and the vampire gave an Oscar-worthy performance, in the interest he showed in the toy she extended his way, in show and tell fashion. It was a telephone with light up numbers, that would play back whatever was punched in. She showed him how it worked, and informed him, "Your turn."

Eric smiled amusedly, the keys seeming small and fragile beneath his large fingers. "I wouldn't usually give my number to one so young, but you are obviously a very special girl…" he joked.

Though she did not quite understand the joke, Annika smiled widely, flashing small teeth, and dashed off once more.

"When you're a thousand years old, aren't you always robbing the cradle?" mused Henrik, a seemingly innocent remark. But when Eric's eyes met his, he could clearly see, despite the bounds they'd covered, they still were not quite going to be tennis buddies anytime soon.

Eric and Björn, however, were another matter. The discussion soon turned to steel, a subject the vampire seemed to know quite a bit about, and confessed to owning a significant share in a competitor's company. Henrik sighed to himself as Björn Jurgensen CEO returned, and the older men talked business technicality that bored the other three to tears. Only Annika feigned interest, perched upon Eric's lap as she toyed with a LEGO figurine, glancing up with a comically grave expression now then, nodding as Eric did.

A twinge of jealousy ignited in Henrik, at the sight of the child sitting upon the vampire, having obviously picked a new favorite for the night. First Sookie, now even his niece seemed charmed by the charismatic Eric. Who next?

However, with a certain shrewdness Henrik mused a bit more on the situation. Someday, little Annika would grow up, and neither his parents nor he would live forever. Someday, someone might demand unjust things of her, much as had been the case with Sookie, and was an all too familiar story at the center. Eric Northman could be a formidable ally for her, as he had been for Sookie, in many ways.

He certainly did not trust the King of Sweden, and found himself scowling every time Viggo the vampire appeared on the covers of tabloids, or sometimes even the morning papers. And Eric's word seemed to trump Viggo's - - no small feat, he knew.

Henrik found it strangely surreal to think on that someday he would be dust in a grave, and Eric, this vampire in their living room, the head of their family line, would look exactly the same, changed only on the inside.

And what of Sookie?

She enjoyed humanity, but it seemed unbelievable that the vampire would let her go the course of a normal human lifespan. Would let her leave him by something so inglorious as death of old age?

He wondered what _she _wanted, and strangely found he had no doubt she would wrangle the vampire into respecting her wishes, in a way like no other seemed able to.

_Because he really loves her_, whispered revelation in his ear.

Henrik's own love, however, stubbornly shoved that voice away. He looked upon Sookie out the corner of his eye, moved by her beauty, cursing the sweater dress just _a little _for somehow leaving nothing to the imagination, even as it covered her perfectly well.

His imagination would pick up the slack later, he felt certain, and wished a time would come when his musings would be filled with memories instead.


	25. A Note Of Tinkerbelle

**Chapter 26: A Note of Tinkerbelle**

"So tell me about the painting, Eric." Alone at long last, Sookie broke the silence as they descended the stairs to their bedroom. She'd noted the change in him as he viewed the painting, his eyes taking in every detail carefully.

She'd felt _recognition _through the bond, and curiosity burned within her.

"What has your doctor Ibsen discovered of the origins of telepathy, Sookie?" Eric countered, taking a seat upon the bed. Sookie crossed the room to him, standing between his long legs as she began to unbutton his shirt. After months of practice, she'd become quite good at negotiating the small buttons of men's dress clothes. Pushing the garment away from his shoulders, Sookie happily traced the contours of her prize, small hands trekking across the plane of his chest.

"Very little, honestly. We know that it's a genetic trait; he theorizes it's a mutation of the brain, that allows us to catch brainwaves."

"I have my own theory," offered the vampire, momentarily distracted by the smooth line of her thigh beneath his palm. His hand disappeared beneath the hem of her dress, and Sookie sighed as clever fingers toyed with the lace of her panties at her hip.

"Do tell." Her words came upon a sigh, and Eric took it as an invitation to lift her dress above her head, revealing the white lace lingerie beneath.

"I know the taste of your sweet blood, as the back of my own hand," the vampire began, planting generous kisses upon her torso. "It is a sweet vintage. Fine, and rare." He moved her to the bed, unzipping the leather boots that complimented shapely calves so well. "And though it has been centuries since last I tasted a fey, I'm certain there is a trace of it in your blood."

"Fey? You mean, like a fairy?"

"Yes, that is the popular term, though they are not like Disney's Tinkerbelle."

"How would I possibly…" Sookie trailed off in her protest. If she'd learned anything of families that night, it was that _anything _could be possible, somewhere along the line.

"There are notes of fey in Henrik's blood as well. And though I'm sure you would object to my tasting of the other telepaths at the center, I would place money on the certainty that they too are part fey. Fairy, as you say."

"We're fairy-human hybrids? What does that have to do with the painting?"

Eric lay down beside Sookie, propping his head on one hand, tracing circles across the skin of her soft belly. "In the last year of my mortal lifetime, my men and I skirmished with the werewolves that served Appius, my maker. We'd been tracking them through the woods, and deep in the forest they ambushed us. That battle, I was the only survivor. Badly injured, they left me for dead. I would not have lived through the night, had I not been rescued, by a woman who lived in the woods nearby. She took me to her home, and cleaned my wounds, and made me salves to help them heal more quickly.

"I stayed with her for quite some time. She cared for me when I could barely move, nursed my fragile human body back to health. It was not difficult to succumb to her attentions. She was…"

Eric's words trailed off, lost in the winding maze of his memories, a basin of past deeds vast as an ocean in his mind. For all his vocabulary, he still could hardly find words to describe her. "Ethereal," the vampire finally settled upon. "An exquisite beauty. Confident, fearless. When she swore the wolves would not dare touch her, though she lived alone in the woods, I believed her. Her hair was the color of spilt blood, her eyes chips of emerald fire - - at times, looking at her out the corner of my eye, I felt certain she couldn't be human."

"And you had a child with this woman?"

"I did not know of one, though we made love quite often, after I became well enough. But I left, before such knowledge could present itself. She asked me to stay, but my blood was poisoned by the desire for revenge. I promised I would return, after killing the one who slew my family, though she seemed to know I would not be coming back to her. A century passed, before I could return to the spot. Not even a trace remained of the cabin we'd passed such months of bliss in."

"You think she was a fairy?" asked Sookie pensively, toying with the golden hairs that dusted Eric's arm.

Eric's lips curled in a winsome smile. "In light of what I know now, it seems a distinct possibility. In those days, she was not Thyra, but Sinead. If she was a fairy, then she could still live. Their lives span millennia with ease. She could appear to her progeny the Jurgensons in the 1800s, posing as a mysterious but close relative, with a farm in Africa."

Sookie turned on her side, mirroring Eric in propping her head on her hand. "Did you love her?"

"Yes," he admitted plainly, and found Sookie smiling slightly at the admission, looking up to him. "It does not make you jealous, to hear of another woman I loved." It was not a question; he could feel its truth through the bond.

"Should I insist something unrealistic, demand you pretend I'm the only woman you've ever loved?" she countered wryly.

"Hmm. Understanding of you."

"Couldn't the world use a little more of that? Besides. I have a theory that jealousy is mostly rooted in fear, and I have no fear of losing you now. It's moot."

Eric found the conversation turning for the interesting.

"Is it? And were she to appear to us tomorrow, what then?"

Sookie raised an eyebrow in response. "What then indeed, Mr. Northman? Would you leave me for her?" Playfully she pushed at his chest with two fingers, and the vampire caught her hand up in his, pressing lips to her fingers.

"No."

"Would you want to make love to her again?"

"I might, though wanting and doing are two very different things."

"Would you grab her up and kiss her senseless with this amazing mouth of yours?" Sookie claimed the part in question with her own, clasping his lower lip between her teeth possessively, pulling a groan from deep in Eric's chest.

The vampire leaned over her, resting his weight upon his forearms with a smile that bordered on predatory. "Maybe it would serve you right," he suggested, ducking down to kiss her pulse, scraping fangs against her skin.

Oh yes, he _knew_.

Not the details precisely. Not the where, or when, or how. Why? Well, that was the easy part.

He also knew it had not happened again since, and that was enough for him.

He'd lived far too long, to become uprooted by something so insignificant as a kiss, when he felt so very secure in Sookie's affections.

A kiss can be many things. A greeting, a token of affection. A prelude to things to come.

In this particular instance, he suspected it might have been an apology, or very possibly, _goodbye. _

"Maybe," she agreed, and did not question that somehow he'd become privy to her slight indiscretion. She had not confessed; some things a woman has to keep to herself, close to her heart, for her own sanity. That moment with Henrik in his office fell into that particular category.

She would have regretted it, had it hurt Eric, but he'd not been distressed then, and certainly not now. But with the intention to set things in good balance, Sookie slid her fingers into his hair, drawing him down into a passionate lock of lips. This kiss, her mouth working against his in perfect tandem quite distinctly resounded _I choose __**you**_, and _that _the vampire cherished to the bottom of his soul.

**A/n: A short but significant chapter for your weekend pleasure. :) Hope you enjoyed! Thanks everyone!**


	26. Tough Like Sookie

**Chapter 27: Tough Like Sookie **

Not long after the reunion of the Jurgensen clan and their sire, little Annika received her wish, the first snow falling upon Stockholm. And it continued to fall, until a permanent blanket of white covered the land, that would remain until spring. On the eaves of winter break, Sookie took a break from studying for finals to play with the small child on the slope before Eric's home, the red sled proving an addictive winter activity as they went on in a continuous loop, up and down, up and down, the four year old squealing with delight from her safe cradle between Sookie's knees.

For a Louisiana girl, Sookie seemed quite adept at handling the powdered slope.

Amusedly, Henrik and Eric watched the girls play from the top of the hill.

A year ago, neither would have guessed they could stand together in such close proximity without something _ugly _coming to pass between them. Now, they bordered on amicable, and the phenomenon puzzled both men to no end, even as they lived it.

Out of several contributing factors, among family ties and business association, perhaps chiefly it had something to do with moving on, or at least, Henrik's attempt to do so.

Albeit reluctantly, he'd begun to date again.

Never mind the fact it had yet to work out so well yet; in both instances, he'd been on the receiving end of the asking. And both women by the end of the evening, astute observers of human nature, one a psychologist and one a journalist, walked away without a doubt his heart did not completely belong to him.

The second such outing was not entirely his fault, he would maintain. Inga, in her final year of fine art studies, spied Henrik speaking with Lisbeth the journalist at the university café, and not unwittingly doomed the evening to failure by inviting them both to her senior exhibition.

Sookie had been there, upon Inga's arm as her date, and also featured in many of the paintings upon the walls. Finally, the artist convinced Sookie to pose for her, for the sake of art, posterity, improving the world by placing something beautiful in it, oh the reasons went on and on - - Inga could be labeled as persistent in an argument, as she was loving in delivering it.

Upon watching the poor doctor's reactions to the work on the wall, and no less his behavior in a room shared with Sookie, the journalist ended their evening early with a knowing if not pitying smile, a pat on the cheek, and an invitation to _call me if you're ever really ready. _

A slow road indeed, but the doctor began to hope he would arrive someday.

In the meanwhile, there was his work, and precious moments like these with Sookie and his niece to keep him occupied.

Though Henrik knew Annika to be perfectly safe here, trusting Sookie implicitly, and at least in the case of the little girl's safety, even trusting Eric, he accompanied her always to their sire's home on his mother's insistence.

She did not care for the vampire, nor for his intrusion in her family's lives. She shared no genes with him, and considered herself immune to the spell he'd seemed to place upon the other members of her family. The most recent development in the Jurgensen Corp boardroom horrified her to no end.

A great uncle had passed, and by rights it became Henrik's turn to step up, and take his place in helping to run the family affairs. However, already doctor running a non-for-profit, with his hands completely full with his chosen profession, Henrik held no interest in the least in claiming his birthright.

However, he happened to know another member of the family with a nose for business, who held far more experience in such matters than him.

Henrik proposed to give the seat to Eric. His father, though disappointed in his son's disinterest as usual, was not opposed to the idea.

Fru Jurgensen, on the other hand, furiously argued against it, the thought of the vampire weeding his way further into their affairs offending her sensibilities to no end. However, having chosen to remain a mostly domestic member all her life, she retained little clout with the business end of her family's affairs, and so was overruled.

Sookie, on the other hand, adored the idea. She'd noticed Eric becoming slightly restless, and felt glad to have some seat of power occupy him, that did not involve vampire politics.

Breathing heavily from their walk up the hill but smiling widely, the pink-cheeked maidens approached Eric and Henrik with the sled in tow. "Now it's _your _turn_,_" announced Annika, pouncing upon Eric as a small cat with her favorite toy.

"_My _turn?" asked Eric, tossing her up in the air, winning a squeal of delight. "I won't fit on the sled, little one."

But she pouted, and invariably, won her way.

Between Annika, Sookie, and Pam, it became apparent Eric held _quite _the weakness for demanding blue-eyed blond women.

Sookie could barely contain her laughter, at the sight of her 1000 year old Viking vampire lover scrunched up upon a runner sled with a child, an excited squeal mixed with deep laughter trailing behind their descent down the slope as the tail of a comet.

**OOOIIIOOO**

A week later, finals finished and a true vacation upon her, Sookie and Annika decorated cookies upon the large counter of Eric's vast kitchen. For a man who would never use it, he'd spared no expense in its preparation. It made Sookie wonder if he'd always harbored the hope, deep in a forbidden room of his heart, that someday he would have someone to bring here who would use it.

A silly thought, she dismissed.

It was four in the afternoon, and already dark. Pam was out shopping, and Eric had gone to a business meeting, leaving Sookie to happily entertain the four-year old on her own, while Henrik graded final papers at the kitchen table.

"Was anything taken?" asked Sookie, popping another tray in the oven.

Dr. Ibsen's lab had been vandalized just the day before, cabinets broken and supplies thrown about, and some expensive equipment damaged. The incident remained as mysterious as it was disturbing; Ibsen had no enemies that he or Henrik could think of. Academic rivals, yes, but no one who would go to such ends to sully research. No fingerprints had been left, and the surveillance cameras had been damaged as well, leaving them without a trace of hard evidence.

The matter was very strange indeed.

"Not that we can find, but we're still cataloging."

Ulf and Adele lounged before the fire in the living room, and the former lifted his head in warning, a deep _woof _emitting from his mouth, a moment before the doorbell sounded.

Puzzled as to who it could be, Sookie washed the icing off her hands, and cautiously went to the door, standing on tiptoe to look through the peephole. Her heart skipped a beat, at the sight of King Viggo on the other side of the door, his second Fröde in tow.

Cautiously, Sookie opened the door. "Good evening, Your Majesty, she said, dipping her knees slightly in a light bow.

"Good evening, Sookie. I need to speak with Eric."

"He's not here, I'm afraid." Viggo waited expectantly, a red eyebrow raised. Sookie couldn't help but think the vampire looked…sick, his skin sallow, eyes lightly ringed with purple, his posture slightly stooping.

"Aunt Sookie, who is it?" called Annika, racing up to the elder telepath's side. She peered around Sookie's legs at the vampires upon the stoop, and protectively Sookie held her out of reach. Were she a cat, her ears would have flattened against the side of her head.

There was a glint in Viggo's eyes she did not like in the least, at sight of the child. _Hunger_, for lack of a better word, and when the King opened his mouth once more his fangs glinted in the electric light of the hallway. "Does Eric know you've turned his beautiful home into a daycare?"

"Eric is _very _fond of this child," Sookie warned.

"Yes. I hear he's becoming quite close to his remaining mortal family. Strange for him, wouldn't you say?"

"Maybe not. Eric will be back in a few hours, Viggo, I'll tell him you stopped by."

"I would rather wait." The king imparted his request with the tone of one not accustomed to being denied anything.

Sookie, however, had no intention of allowing him past the threshold with Annika and Henrik inside, a perfect recipe for disaster. She steeled herself to staring down a vampire seven hundred years her elder.

"I'm sorry, but that's not an option."

Viggo scowled. "I only asked out of courtesy." Thinking it to be a vampire home, an invitation not required, the king attempted to cross the threshold. However, he was only met by the invisible wall of magic that prevents a vampire from entering where he was not welcome. Frustrated by impotence, Viggo bared his fangs, causing Annika to gasp.

"This is my home now too," Sookie coolly imparted, tone low yet unyielding.

"Then invite me in."

Fröde stood quietly behind his king, eyes hardened as he stared Sookie down.

_Soon, she'll have no power over us._

Sookie realized she'd plucked the brief thought from Fröde's mind, and glanced away to conceal her sudden surprised unease, a cold fear spreading through her veins.

She found herself turning eyes to study Viggo once more.

He did look _ill _and she couldn't imagine what could possibly cause such an appearance in a vampire, outside of starvation.

And King Viggo was _not _one to deprive himself.

The telepath's heart pounded in her chest, sensing something serious hung in the balance. There were two options before her; refuse the vampire king and make things difficult in their new home, or endanger the humans she loved most in this world.

One can guess the route she traveled.

"No, but I'll tell Eric you were here."

Ignoring further protest and threat, Sookie closed the door slowly but firmly in Viggo's face, turning the deadbolt.

Releasing a shaky breath of relief, Sookie scooped the child up into her arms, holding her little body close. Upon returning to the kitchen, Henrik paid her a haunted look, and reached for Annika. Seeming spooked, she sat quietly in his lap.

_She has Eric's protection, Henrik. Viggo wouldn't dare touch her, _Sookie assured him, responding to the shadows and fears so suddenly apparent in his blue eyes.

Leaning against the counter, cookies forgotten, she mulled over what she'd gleaned from Fröde's mind. _Soon she'll have no power over us. _

What did that mean?

Sounded like a threat, but to whom, she wasn't sure. Her? Eric? Viggo?

She needed to speak with Eric.

Annika chose that moment to pipe in, "Sookie's _tough_. When the scary shadow man came to the door for Grandma, she didn't send him away. She was too scared. I'll be tough too someday, like Sookie."

Both Henrik and Sookie froze at the four-year old's statement.

Finally, the doctor asked of his niece, "Have you seen those vampires before?"

"Them? No. The shadow man was different. His feeling hurt my head, on the inside, so I went back to my room."

Henrik's heart beat doubled to a point where for an unacademic moment, he thought it might burst.

_Shadow man? _asked Sookie, concern written clearly across her face.

_I think I need to speak with my mother_, Henrik answered. He needed to get to the bottom of this, before it exploded into something ugly. He hoped it was not too late.

More silence passed, and in a moment of trust Sookie broke under the burden of her rare ability. _Can you ever read vampire thoughts? _she asked Henrik, and her telepathic doctor's golden eyebrows drew even closer together with more concern.

_I never have. Can you?_

_ Sometimes, I catch a stray one._

Henrik shook his head at the admission. _Your powers grow more every day, Sookie. I think you've surpassed me. _

Sookie too shook her head. _I'm not powerful. Just unlucky._

_ This is a dangerous thing. Who else knows?_

_ Only Eric._

_ Let's keep it that way._

A few hours later, Eric silently entered his home, to find Sookie and Annika upon the couch, attempting to read a book. Both humans were preoccupied with the event just passed on the stoop, in their own way. "How'd you get so brave?" asked Annika, disinterested in the cartoon fish caught up in whatever anthropomorphic adventure on the page before her, pulling at Sookie's braid.

Sookie hesitated in her answer, before planting a gentle kiss atop the child's head. What to say, to such a complex question? She decided for the truth, because one never knows what pearls of wisdom a child might carry with her later on. What moments or words will shape her.

Henrik paused in his grading, interested in what answer Sookie would give.

"We just have to be, sweetheart. We're telepaths, _and _we're girls. That means people bully you double, and try to get you to do what they want, even if it will hurt you. You have to stand your ground, and say what you know is right. You say _no, _even when you think you're too scared to. You have to be stronger than you ever imagined you could be."

"Then you'll be ok?"

At that moment Sookie did sense Eric, and as she turned to meet his gaze a chill fluttered down her spine.

She couldn't distinguish this sudden sense of foreboding to be hers, or his.

"With a little luck, honey. Everything turns out just fine," she assured Annika, even as Sookie herself wasn't sure she believed it, and Henrik went back to his papers with his own grim fears weighing like a stone in his belly.

**A/N: Um…hope y'all don't mind this burst of frequent updates… lol. Thanks so much, everyone! We're on a roll … :)**


	27. The Used

**Chapter 28: The Used**

"_Soon she'll have no power over us. _Word for word, that's what I heard."

Henrik and Annika had gone, leaving Eric and Sookie alone to discuss the events just past.

Sookie paced the floor, filled to bursting with pent up anxious energy, while Eric sat motionless as a stone in his armchair, thinking upon her words with the stillness of the dead. He mulled the possibilities, the nooks and crannies, the ins and outs and everything in between, but Sookie desperately wanted him to share his thought process aloud.

"And you say he looked sick?"

"Yes, it was strange. Like…he hadn't eaten in a year or something. When Annika came to the door…I'm fairly certain he would have tried to feed on her, had I let him in."

"It is not uncommon for an ailing vampire to attack a child," confirmed Eric. "They are easy prey, they are pure and unsullied in their innocence. Some adults can taste toxic, depending on the lifestyles they've led, the pollution they've absorbed."

"Jesus Christ. Is she in danger?"

Eric stood from the couch, a grave expression in place. "No, I won't allow it. However, I feel I must speak with Viggo face to face. Immediately."

"What about Fröde?"

Eric looked up from texting Pam, demanding she return home so that Sookie would not be left alone.

Despite the security measures employed at his home, he suddenly felt uneasy leaving his lover unattended by something that could throw a car halfway down a futbol field, whether it be him or his child.

If he'd learned to trust anything down the centuries, it was his instinct, and his gut warned him something was amiss. That their trials would be coming sooner than he'd imagined. He could smell the trouble in the wind.

"Fröde does not like the influence I retain over the king, and the influence _you _retain as the woman I love. If he's plotting to overthrow Viggo…it could explain his thought. I will test the waters, see what I can find out. If he is a traitor, I must think of a way to expose him, _without _revealing your secret. This could get tricky."

Sookie sighed deeply, and crossed the room to fall into the sanctuary of Eric's arms. "Back to vampire politics again, eh?"

"I am afraid they are inevitable, once in a while."

Headlights flashing against the window alerted them Pam's Volvo crawled up the driveway. When finally she entered through the garage door, her arms were filled with shopping bags. "What's wrong?" she asked, dropping them on the floor unceremoniously.

Eric explained that Viggo and Fröde had demanded entrance to his home, only to be rebuffed by the human, and he did not feel comfortable leaving her alone for the moment. The Viking pointedly left out Sookie's reading a vampire thought. He trusted Pam, but it simply ranked safer to leave her in the dark in this one instance. The less who knew, the better.

"I will return soon, lover," he promised Sookie, and with a hand behind her head he pulled her into a kiss that left her knees weak. For a moment, she forgot her fears, forgot everything but the feeling of Eric's mouth upon hers, and she blessed him for the all-too-brief reprieve.

"Be careful."

Both Pam and Sookie watched him go with heavy hearts, an nearly identical and unidentifiable uneasiness tingling between their shoulder blades. Sookie shook her head, the sight of his tall frame disappearing out the door burned into her memory. "It's fun for him to play the bad boy," said Sookie quietly, breaking the pregnant silence. "The villain, the sheriff in black. But really, he's the hero, and he has been all along."

Slowly, Pam nodded in agreement. A part of her felt _grateful_, of all damned things, that this strange little human who captured her maker's attention so thoroughly, truly knew him. That he was not a toy to her, as he had been to so many others. Maybe Eric had been a user at Fangtasia, but he was also _the used_.

Such a thing can only go on for so long, and she found she preferred this new stage of their lives far more than the time they'd spent in Louisiana.

**IIIOOOIII**

Henrik was not able to catch up with his mother until a whole two days later. She'd gone out of town to visit friends, and where he could have chased her across Sweden to confront her about the _shadow man_, it seemed best to stay put.

After Viggo's visit, and despite Sookie's assurances, he felt uneasy about leaving Annika to his father or the nanny. He hadn't let her out of his sight since.

When finally his mother returned, just as night began to darken the windows, he lost no time in drawing her into a discussion. Though usually he gave her total privacy, in this instance he clamped down upon her every thought, while asking, "Have you had any late night visitors, Mother? Anyone clad in black at the door?"

It sounded ridiculous, put that way, but she would certainly know of whom he spoke.

"No, my dear. What are you talking about?" Sara paid her son a quizzical look, her usually lucid blue eyes seeming a tad clouded. Her brown hair frosted with gray, her narrow shoulders stooped, she suddenly appeared quite frail to Henrik. Though these changes had been gradual, the realization of his mother's mortality ambushed him in way at that moment. This pain nearly distracted him from her own reaction - - or rather that, there was none.

He prodded at her mind, and found a bubble of blank, as though something had been _erased. _

Though he'd never encountered a glamoured mind before, he had a feeling this was the shape of the deed to a telepath's examination.

_All I need is something of Eric. Get me that, and I will do the rest. _

The shadow's words echoed in his memory, triggering a realization for the doctor. It struck him as a ton of bricks, the pieces of the puzzle finally fitting together, and Henrik dashed out the door, suddenly quite aware that he'd been a fool.

**IIOOOII**

Christmas quickly approached, and Sookie found herself engaged in that great seasonal hunt for the perfect gift.

What to get for the vampire lover who had everything?

Pam steered Sookie in the direction of the specialty lingerie store, which seemed like a good start. Though this originally had been an excursion planned by Inga and Sookie, both were happy to have the snarky fashionista vampire tag along as Sookie's bodyguard.

Viggo indeed was very sick, Eric had returned to report, but with what, no one knew. The ailment presented similar to the dreaded Sino-Aids, though the deterioration proved far too _rapid _for it. Slowly, the king was wasting away, and no one knew how to stop it. Eric suspected some sort of enchantment, and spent the past two nights combing the vampire world for some evidence of treachery.

If Fröde was indeed responsible, he'd done quite a thorough job of covering his tracks thus far.

And if things continued in this vein, Viggo would waste away to nothing, leaving Fröde as his second the new vampire King of Sweden.

"Mmm. I would like to see _you _in that one," whispered Pam softly in Inga's ear, pointing to one of the mannequins sporting an enticing ice blue bra and panties set.

They'd been flirting all night, and Sookie couldn't help but think how ironic it would be if Inga fell into Pam's bed, after voicing her disproval of Eric so enthusiastically.

Well, she couldn't forget _motive_. Sookie knew Inga rooted for Henrik's team, would always stand in the doctor's corner, and thought Sookie to be a perfect match for him. _You two glow, when you're together_, she'd once told Sookie. _The emotions between you, I can _sense _them, and you click like few others do. It's a special thing, don't squander it. _

Sookie wondered what the empathy's emotional reading would be on she and Eric, but sadly, like telepathy, empathy was a useless thing in the presence of the terminally fanged. She also wondered if Pam's personal quiet afforded Inga some form of rest, as Eric did her. Inga rarely complained of her ability, the way the telepaths did. Feelings were slightly more obtuse - - less threatening than a direct thought, though certainly just as powerful. Sookie knew some of Inga's bright cheer came as a defense mechanism - - a flash of her smile could melt the coldest heart, and usually dissipate any negativity that might come her way.

Wandering off on her own, letting her lover's child reel Inga in with flirtatious wit, Sookie perused panties and bras and garters and nighties, searching for something Eric would like. It seemed a little absurd for a moment, considering the vampire was just as enamored of her birthday suit as any icing she might adorn herself in, but…

Oh, something _red_ would do nicely.

She turned in the direction of a display featuring said color, when a sudden lightheadedness overtook her. Grappling for a nearby table, Sookie missed her mark, and her limbs betrayed her in a moment of complete uselessness, fuzzy and disconnected. The telepath hit the tile floor hard, the _thump_ drawing gasps from all across the store.

"Sookie!" exclaimed Inga, and Pam appeared at her side in an instant, cradling her face gently.

"What happened?" asked Pamela, searching Sookie's eyes.

Sookie looked about wildly.

Something was wrong. She suddenly felt…severed. Not whole. Like a piece of her had been ripped away.

"_I can't feel Eric_," she whispered, her words filled with horror and dread.

Eyes wide with panic, Sookie forced herself into a sitting position. The world had not _quite _quit spinning, and it took Pam's strong hand upon her back to keep her upright.

"What do you mean?" asked the vampire.

"The bond. It's gone," Sookie realized, as the words left her mouth. "We have to get back to the house. We have to find him."

Nodding, Pam pulled Sookie to her feet, and with an arm around her waist, the telepath managed to walk back to the car.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Inga, after they secured Sookie safely in the passenger's seat.

"There could be danger. You should go home."

Inga seemed slightly injured that the vampire didn't want her help, but understood by Pam's steely tone there would be no budging her.

"Alright. Let me know…I hope everything's alright."

Though she felt certain it was _not_, Pam kissed Inga on the cheek, and dropped down into the driver's seat.

She'd never pushed the Volvo to such breakneck speeds, as that winter night.

**OOOIIIOOO**

Henrik made his way through the darkened building, halls he knew by heart, no need for a light. Arriving at Ibsen's lab, he stepped around the crime scene tape, going straight to the refrigerator where samples were kept.

Inventory had not yet been finished, and Henrik had a sudden feeling they should have started with the fridge.

The doctor's heart dropped to his feet, when he realized his sudden hunch to be directly on the mark, and cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner.

His mother had known, had sent the shadowed vampire straight to it, and despite her dislike of Eric, Henrik felt certain she'd done it all quite unwittingly, under the influence of vampire glamour.

Henrik's fingers shook as he dialed Sookie's cell phone, and he cursed as her gentle voice came over the line, urging him to leave a name and number and she would get back to him as soon as she could.

"Sookie, it's Henrik. Call me as soon as you get this."

The leftovers of Eric Northman's generous blood sample had been stolen.

**A/N: Dun dun dun… :) Thank you for reading, everyone! **


	28. Lost and Found

**Chapter 29: Lost and Found**

Pam and Sookie arrived at the house on the hill, to find an eerie quiet had settled over the place. Something in the wind felt _off _to both the vampire and the telepath, and Pamela closed her eyes, searching the surrounding area for _something_.

Her bond too had been weakened, though not quite so devastatingly as Sookie's. Only now was the telepath regaining full command of her limbs once more, though she still felt considerably weak. _Fragile_, as she had a time before vampire blood, and it frightened her to no end.

"_He's in the forest_," Pamela whispered. "_That way_." A manicured finger extended to the North of the house, and immediately Sookie began tramping through the snow in that direction.

At a loss, cursing her choice of footwear but with no patience to fetch boots, Pam kicked off her Manolo pumps, placing them in her car, and followed after Sookie. "You shouldn't come out here in bare feet," Sookie scolded.

"The cold does not affect me as it does you," Pam reminded her. "And there's no way I'm letting you go _in there_ alone."

_In there _denoted the tall trees looming darkly before them, and Sookie fought off a chill that had nothing to do with cold.

A line of large footprints made a path in the snow, leading into the woods, and without another word the women followed after them.

Sookie had never been more frightened of a dark wood, and frantically her eyes scanned the darkness for some sign of Eric. They walked and walked - it seemed as though the path went on forever, and Pamela silently wondered if Sookie in her cumbersome humanity would be able to cover the distance Eric had earlier, or if she would need to take Sookie back to the house and conduct her own search.

But no sooner than the thought occurred to Pam, did they come upon her maker.

Eric stood bare-chested in a clearing, walking in circles on feet devoid of protection. He muttered in an ancient tongue, the great-great-great grandfather of the modern Swedish Sookie learned so quickly. Even so, Sookie could make some of it out, picking up on the _feeling _of the words as much as their literal translation.

It sounded like, _She was here when I left her. Right here. Where is she? I left her right here. _

Obviously, something did not add up.

"Eric?" called Sookie, taking a cautious step into the clearing. Pam let her go, ready to intervene should she have to. The vampiress watched her maker carefully, studied him with a hawk's eyes. He felt…lighter, to her, and she knew not what to make of it.

Eric's head snapped to attention, regarding the small blond woman before him.

"What's going on? Are you hurt?"

Immediately, the Viking bared his fangs, backing away a step from the newcomer, then paused in a sort of wonder for it. Long fingers lifted to touch the pointy teeth, and immediately recoiled as he pricked himself. Eric stared at his own blood as though it were a foreign substance, dripping down into the snow.

A moment later, the wound closed, which also seemed to alarm him.

He asked a question of Sookie, which she interpreted as _What am I?_

She took another step closer, and he allowed it, though watching her warily. "You're a vampire, Eric. Remember?" she answered in Swedish.

"You know me?"

Sookie's heart fell to her feet, as well as her jaw.

It seemed he did not remember her.

The telepath's heart pounded in her chest, and the sound seemed to interest Eric as much as it puzzled him.

"Yes," she finally answered, holding out her hand to him. "You're mine."

Suspiciously, Eric regarded it, appearing to weigh his options. Sookie's arm soon trembled with the effort, but she dared not pull it back.

At long last, he clasped his frigid digits around hers.

"I belong to no one," he grumbled, but allowed Sookie to tug him away from the clearing, back towards the house, and civilization. The towering vampire turned back for a moment, his gaze fixed longingly upon the patch of clear ground, covered in a foot of snow and his own circling footprints. "_I left her right there_," he swore, and Sookie had a feeling she knew who _her _referred to.

She did _not, _however, know what to make of Eric's condition, and neither did Pam. They exchanged a grim look, and led Eric back to the house like a child lost out in the snow.

**IIIOOOIII**

Eric looked upon the house with a mixture of wonder and suspicion written across his features. "What is this place?" he asked, Sookie's hand tightly clasped in his own.

"This is your home," Sookie assured him gently, leading him through the front door. _And you are a big mess, _she thought to herself, looking down at his feet, cut and bleeding. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." She led him down the stairs to their bedroom, with the large bathtub in mind, and Pam followed close behind.

As the tub filled, Eric allowed Sookie to undress him, seeming to trust her, and paid Pam's presence little mind as well.

"I will stay the night with you here," he informed them both, "But I must be on my way at dawn."

"On your way where?" asked his child gently in a dialect of Swedish older than what Sookie could duplicate, but still not quite the ancient language Eric favored at the moment.

"To slay the one who killed my family. The wolfmaster."

Sookie reached up to cup his cheeks in her hands, pulling his gaze that traveled wildly around the room to her own. His skin burned icy cold to the touch. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Eric searched her gaze carefully, before finally answering, "Thyra, the cabin. I told her I would return, when I'd avenged my family."

The telepath battled with herself. What was the protocol, in dealing with an amnesiac vampire? Does one baby him, hoping reality will come back gently, or tell him the truth, confident he can handle it? Sookie took a risk, in imparting, "That happened almost a thousand years ago, Eric."

The vampire's stare hardened, and he pulled away from her to sit on the side of the tub. Without any urging, he slipped into the water, sighing for the warmth against his skin, and seemed to ponder what Sookie had said.

"I'll be back in a little while," said Pam, opting to give them some privacy. She wanted to search the house, see if any clues were left as to what had happened to Eric. There was a hint of magic in the air, but nothing she recognized, or could trace. She could not sense the presence, present or just past, of anyone but her maker in the house.

Sookie took off her jeans and sweater, situating herself on the edge of the tub, her feet dangling in the hot water. "Sit there, and give me your foot," she instructed, and surprisingly the Viking did as she asked.

"How is this possible?" asked Eric, glaring at the faucet. "For boiling hot water to come from the wall?"

"There are pipes in the wall," explained Sookie, searching for the words as she extracted a fragment of rock from his heel. "Connected to a water heater, connected to electricity…oh boy."

"Electricity?"

Sookie sighed heavily. It was shaping up to be a long night.

Before she could begin to fathom how to explain _electricity_ to a vampire who thought he still lived in the Viking age, Eric asked another question, this one a bit more simple. "Are you my woman?"

It sounded primitive, and somehow pulled at some string rooted deep inside Sookie, even as the feminist in her felt reviled by the syntax.

"I am your lover," she offered. "We take care of each other."

"But you are not my wife?"

"Not exactly."

"Are you my slave?"

"No!" she snapped on instinct, then reminded herself that it had been a common practice in his time as a human. A typical role in a household for captives.

The vampire narrowed his eyes at Sookie raising her voice to him, and they sat in silence as she picked through his other foot, cleaning the cuts that already began to heal, removing various debris.

"Do you remember soap?" she asked, holding up a fragrant bar that smelled of lemongrass.

Though he curled his nose at the notion, Eric moved across the tub slowly to sit between her legs, giving Sookie his back as though in acquiescence to being lathered. Sookie wondered if bathing her master would have been considered a slave's job in his day, but pushed the thought away. At that moment, it was a labor of love, and the Viking seemed to relax under her fingers that washed him and soothed his muscles. He rested his cheek against her thigh as she rinsed him off, sighing lightly against her skin.

"What is your name, woman?"

Sookie found a crooked smile curling upon her mouth, in spite of the situation.

It was all too surreal for words, and she knew herself to be in shock.

"Sookie," she answered.

"_Strange name_," he grumbled under his breath, even as he relaxed ever further against her, giving in completely to her wandering hands upon him.

**OOOO**

Sookie and Pam spent the rest of the evening examining and cross examining Eric, cutting him up on events, his own life, and the world.

Perhaps he'd been wiped of his memory, but that acute intelligence remained. The Viking caught on with an amazing alacrity, and was speaking a half-modern version of Swedish by the end of the night. Sookie suspected it was a bit like riding a bicycle. That he would get the hang of…everything, again. And soon.

She certainly hoped it would be the case.

Pam, however, seemed to be of the opinion this lapse of memory was due to a spell, and he would only be completely cured when it had been reversed.

"How do we do that?" had asked Sookie.

"We find the witch who cast it."

The next question burned in Sookie's eyes, but she feared sounding a broken record.

Pam didn't have an answer yet, anyway.

After a long night, on the verge of dawn Sookie tucked Eric into bed, and lay down beside him. He clasped her hand in his, the way he had ever since leaving the bath. "Sookie?"

"Yes Eric?" She slurred a little, on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion herself. The Viking reached out to stroke her hair, marveling at its luminescence to his nocturnal vision. Out the corner of his eye, she seemed to glow, just a little.

He didn't think her to be completely human, but at that moment, he trusted her more than anyone in the world.

"_Jag tackar_."

It was at that moment, for the first time, that tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't quite say why his gratitude triggered them, when she'd made it through the whole night with a stiff upper lip.

Perhaps it was because he sounded as lost as she felt inside.

"I love you, Eric," she found herself imparting, squeezing his hand in hers.

"I know," he answered simply, but pulled her closer, drifting off into the wooden sleep of the undead before anything more could be said.

**A/N: A slightly different spin on my favorite twist in the series… **_**och du**_**? Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!**


	29. The Goddess Who Dared

**Chapter 30: **

**The Goddess Who Dared **

_The sun dipped below the horizon, the shadows of night filling the tall pines of the forest as ink spilled upon parchment. Howls pierced the still of the cold, filled the air, followed Eric through the trees, and he knew they were of no ordinary wolf. _

_Hurriedly, he went, searching not for an escape, but a battleground. A high-ground to make his last stand. The Viking would not go down without a fight, not after all he'd been through. All the blood and sweat and tears that brought him to this very moment. _

_Just maybe, at long last, revenge would be his. _

_Long legs burned as they climbed a steep hill, and Eric chose a gathering of boulders as his battleground, a sheer rock face to his back. Closer and closer, the howling neared…_

**IIIOOOIII**

Exhausted from the night before, Sookie slept well through the morning and into the afternoon with Eric by her side. At long last upon waking, she turned to her Viking, who still slumbered deeply under the influence of the sun. A hand reached out to stroke his hair, brushing a stray lock from his eyes.

Here, in this way, face slack with rest he appeared overwhelmingly innocent. As though he really could be a human man of barely thirty years, and not a vampire of a thousand.

What had _happened? _What would they _do_? All questions she had no answer for as of yet, and for a moment the world felt overwhelmingly weighty, before the telepath beat back the sensation with the strength of her will.

This was no time to melt into a puddle of tears, though the temptation tugged at her tired eyes. But the questions ate at her, gnawed upon the back of her brain. What if they couldn't restore his memory? What if he remained this way?

She'd reached that terrifying point in love, where she couldn't _imagine _a life without him, and fear paced as a nervous tiger through the cage of her heart.

As the telepath shook herself from the spell of her melancholy musings she noticed Eric did not lay _completely _dead to the world, his brow furrowed, as though the vampire dreamed.

A rarity, she knew, but anything seemed possible.

"_Eric_?" she asked gently, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear.

Somehow, with touch, his mind did not feel so _blank _as usual. Though she could not read his thoughts, she could feel a flurry of activity within him, a storm howling behind a gauze curtain.

Sookie wondered… and then she dared. Placing a hand upon her vampire's head, her fingers buried in the wealth of golden hair, she curled around his body, and _let go._

_**OOOIIIOOO**_

"_Eric?"_

_Eric turned to find a maiden perched upon one of the boulders, hair long and glorious as Sif's herself, a robe woven of the sky wrapped about her body. A chord of recognition sounded within him. This beauty seemed familiar somehow._

_It wasn't quite right. _

_The timing, all wrong. _

_Not possible. _

_The Viking took a second look, and realized yes, he did know her._

_Sookie. She called herself Sookie. She did not belong to this age, this part of his life. _

_Later, she came later._

"_But I'm here _now_," she insisted with an indulgent smile. _

"_Danger is coming," he warned her. "You shouldn't be here."_

_Eyes calm, serene, she looked to distance behind him, shrugging narrow shoulders. No fear registered in her features. No caution, even. _

_Curious, Eric followed her gaze, to find the trees leveled, nothing but a white plane of snow covered ground stretching out as far as the eye could see. Once more, the sun rose, rays blindingly bright against the sea of frozen water._

_The wolves were gone. _

_He accepted this, as one accepts all things in a dream, without question. Only later, when the magic has faded, do the details not quite add up. _

_Eric turned back to Sookie, her dress an even more vibrant blue in the sunlight than his own mind could possibly remember. _

"_You don't need that now," she coaxed, nodding towards the sword nearly as long as she was tall. _

_Sheathing it upon his back, Eric walked towards her, gathering her in his arms. _

_This was right. _

_This was _best_. _

"_And just what do I need?" he asked, a blond eyebrow raised with a lecherous hope. _

_Somehow, Sookie still found it endearing, as she touched his cheek, seeming to marvel at the beard there._

"_Not this," she answered, pulling at the brooch that clasped his wolfskin cloak, sending the fine fur to pool upon the ground. "Or this," she continued, unclasping his belt. In no time at all, she'd undressed him completely, and Eric stood before her in all his unabashed glory. _

_Eric spread the cloak upon a bed of moss, and lay her down upon it. A bed fit for royalty, in the dreaming lovers' reckoning, and Sookie sighed for the soft fur upon her back and the Viking's weight settling atop her. _

_**IIIOOOIII**_

Sookie's eyes flew open as a heavy weight pressed upon her, restricting her breathing enough to pull her from sharing Eric's dream.

She found a pair of ice blue eyes boring down into her- Eric shifted his weight on his forearms slightly, no longer crushing her, simply… Sookie gasped, as suddenly he spread her legs with a muscled thigh and pushed inside her, filling her to the brim, and she could not suppress a moan.

Neither could he, a low rumble emitting from deep in his chest.

Without a word he made love to her as though no chasm of a millennium remained between them, as though she'd always been his to love. Sookie let him have his way with her, positioning her legs at different angles, varying the pressure for them both in ways that made the room spin.

It was not until the Viking flipped her upon her stomach, entering from behind that the telepath gave any protest.

She did not like to make love this way; it reminded her too much of Bill and the way he'd hurt her one fateful evening. He'd taken away her power to say no, and no matter how much she trusted Eric, she could not feel him inside her like this without flashing on her former lover's cruelty.

"_Nej_, Eric, not like this," she insisted, attempting to squirm away.

The Viking, however, seemed to have other ideas. "Why not?" he asked, in the tone a man uses when he has no intention of stopping or listening to what a woman has to says.

_He doesn't remember_, she reminded herself, and even still it took every ounce of her self control not to flail wildly against the strong arms that held her. "Because I don't like it," she insisted.

"You will," he countered, slowing his pace, planting a gentle yet hungry kiss upon her pulse. "Breathe with me, Sookie. Feel me inside you."

She tried, but could not get past the association. "No," she insisted again, as Eric thrust inside her, deeply. Too deep, _too sharp- - _she panicked, filled with dread at the thought of his next motion. "Stop!"

There was a flash of light within their light-tight room, and Sookie lost time for a moment. Maybe two, even three.

When lucidity returned, she and Eric stood at other sides of the bed, the vampire regarding her suspiciously. A small trickle of blood ran out his nostril, which the vampire partly swept away with the tip of his tongue, a predatory glint shining in his eyes at the taste of blood.

Suddenly, Sookie felt nervous to be in such close proximity to the vampire. The room felt _too _small, the bed not nearly wide enough between them.

"What _are _you?" he demanded of her, tone quiet but not weak.

"I told you last night, Eric, I'm a telepath." The vampire's expression communicated quite clearly he did not believe her. "I'm also part fairy, apparently, but I've never done anything like _that _before. Are you hurt?"

Eric shook his head to the contrary, refusing to take his eyes from her, as one watches a dangerous animal closely. And yet, it was he who asked, "You are afraid of me?"

"You're watching me as a wolf does a lamb, Eric. I don't know what to expect of you right now," she honestly answered.

"You're all I know in this world, Sookie. I wouldn't hurt you."

He held out his hand to her, and though her muscles twitched with the urge to bolt back to him, the telepath held herself in check.

"I'm glad for that, Eric, but when I say _no _you have to listen now. It's the way things are, now."

Brazenly, Eric flashed a humored smile that caused Sookie's heart to ache. "I am not used to women saying no to me - - and meaning it."

No, he wouldn't be, thought Sookie. And he'd forgotten the unique way she'd said _no _to him for months on end before giving in. The epic way he'd pursued her, across an ocean, and the fire they'd forged themselves in. He did not know what made them _them_, and her grief in the loss of it clawed at her insides, what felt like a true _physical_ pain.

At that moment, there was not a thing she possessed she would not have given, to have _her _Eric back before her. The pain welled inside, and at that moment, she knew not what to do with it. Her limbs burned with the urge to run, an art she'd perfected over the past couple of years.

She turned her back, took a few steps towards the door. Just a short walk while the sunlight lasted, to a place where the vampire could not follow, just to clear her head, she told herself.

_Please, don't leave me._

Sookie stopped dead in her tracks, paralyzed by a wave of loneliness that welled within her. The solitude of an eternity weighed upon her, nearly brought her to her knees. It measured vast as the sea, and in that moment she felt certain the feeling not entirely hers.

"_I feel you_," she whispered, stepping towards Eric. With an unseen hand she latched upon the thread that connected them, that she'd felt certain had been shattered the night before. As a caver in the darkness, she followed this thread, hand over hand, leading herself to him.

All masks down, the vampire watched her approach, his expression a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty.

"Do you feel that?" she asked of him, taking his hand, lacing their fingers together before them. Touch only strengthened the connection, and she wondered if somehow with her outburst she'd knocked the spell _loose, _so to speak. Weakened its hold upon him.

"What is it?"

"It is…" Sookie found herself at a loss for words, as Eric took her other hand in his of his own volition. "It's _us, _Eric. Our bond. We're two pieces of a whole. We can survive without each other, but together…"

"We live," he finished for her, a solemn look upon him.

"Yes. _We live_," Sookie agreed.

"I want you to tell me of us, Sookie," requested the Viking. "In detail. I want…to _understand_."

Marveling just a bit at his willingness to listen, Sookie pulled Eric back to the bed, and with the vampire curled against her breast she wove the tail of _them_. The way he'd courted her, and the way she'd run from him. Captivated by the tale, Eric listened to her voice, comforted by its pitch and timbre, that seemed so very familiar in his heart, even if his fragmented mind could not quite grasp its significance.

In his _heart_, he knew. She was his, and he, hers.

"Brave little Valkyrie," sighed the Viking, sitting up to claim Sookie's lips in a gentle kiss. "Do you know the story of Freja, in this age?" he asked of her.

"I know she was a goddess of love in your pantheon," answered the telepath, responding hungrily to another kiss Eric paid her. "I know…" Sookie lost a moment, as Eric's lips found a sensitive area behind her ear. "You have honored me with her names, at certain times."

"Have I? Rightly so," the vampire praised. "For I see her in you. Not just _this_," he punctuated by tracing Sookie's voluptuous curves with his fingertips, admiring the gifts nature gave her. "But in your spirit. Freja was a wife and mother, but even still, she dared to embark upon a quest to seek out that which her heart truly desired. She dared to seek more than the easy life laid out before her in Asgard."

"But didn't she also lose her love, Odur?" asked Sookie. "He left her, when she ran away on her quest for the necklace Brisingamen, and she never found him again."

Eric shrugged, seeming unmoved by what most considered the most tragic part of the story. "She lost the one who did not understand her desires," interpreted Eric, kissing the palm of Sookie's hand languidly, lavishing attention upon her fingers. "And _that _is not so great a loss at all. So show me what you want, Sookie, so that I may remain by your side."

It was at this moment that hot tears welled in the corners of Sookie's eyes. That this Eric, a man of such a different age, would still ask her desires, simply moved her. "I just want you to be gentle with me," Sookie requested, winning a languorously thorough kiss that curled her toes, caused her back to arch against him. "And what do _you _want, Eric?"

The Viking sighed against the skin of her neck, pulling her close in strong arms. "_This_. To be allowed close to you, without fear. And maybe, a little of _this_." He nibbled her pulse, and Sookie understood that he had to be hungry, and marveled that he had not tried to bite her yet. The desire for blood almost seemed an afterthought, a definite rarity for a vampire, and a younger one almost certainly wouldn't have been able to ignore its pull for so long.

"Granted," Sookie agreed.

"Which?" ducking low, Eric wreaked a devastating havoc upon Sookie's breast with his practiced tongue. He certainly hadn't forgotten how to do _that._

"All of it," the telepath groaned under his attentions. "Don't hurt me, and you can have everything."

The vampire took her on her word, making love to her slowly, with a tenderness that left her reeling.

Later, looking back on these precious moments, that Eric would love her so completely no matter what century his mind dwelt in, would see Sookie through her darkest hours.

**A/N: Whew…we've got a long road ahead of us. :) Hope you enjoyed! Thank you everyone!**


	30. A Weak Spot

**Chapter 31: A Weak Spot**

It was not until much later, that Sookie and Eric finally emerged from their love nest underground, and Sookie found her cellphone forgotten upon the kitchen counter blinking frantically with a multitude of missed messages and calls.

All were from Henrik.

She did not take time to listen to voicemails, immediately calling him back.

"Sookie?"

"_Ja_, what's wrong, Henrik?"

"I found out what was stolen from the lab. Eric's vial of blood, from the genetics test."

Sookie remained quiet on her end of the line for several moments, assuming a near vampire stillness as she mulled this over.

Even if they'd known about the blood, she reasoned, could they really have prepared themselves for something like _this_? She doubted it, though she didn't know much about magic, or what could be done with such an insignificant amount of someone's blood.

"Sookie? Inga told me about the way you fainted, in the shop. Is everything alright?"

Sookie decided to just drop the bomb, even if the words hardened, attempting to stick in her throat. "Eric's lost his memory, Henrik. It's some sort of spell. We found him last night in the snow, prowling the woods in barefeet, convinced the date to be 1010 AD."

"My god."

"You could say that." Sookie inhaled a shuddering breath. She'd managed quite well to roll with the punches, but something about explaining their troubles out loud gave them a weight that tested her tear ducts, pressing upon her chest. However, Sookie pulled herself together, unwilling to give in to despair just yet. "But I might have good news. We might be able to break the spell ourselves, without even needing to find the witch that cast it. It's affecting his mind, whatever it is, and who knows their way around the magic of a mind better than us? I might have accidentally…weakened it, earlier. Could you come over soon? Maybe we could give it a try?"

"Combine our powers?"

"They're stronger when we touch. Why not try to focus our efforts on one person?"

She sounded so hopeful, Henrik couldn't find it in his heart to point out that between the two of them, she was the only one who could read vampire minds. She possessed the burgeoning talent, whereas he felt certain his own powers would not develop any more, at the ripe age of twenty-nine.

"Very well. I'll see you soon, Sookie."

"Great. Thank you, Henrik."

"Don't thank me yet."

_Don't thank me at all_, thought the telepath on the other end, grateful Sookie could not read his thoughts over the phone. An acute sense of guilt already set in, and Henrik vowed he would do what he could to help Sookie get her vampire lover back into _this _century, even if in a small dark corner of his heart, he wished Eric would stay gone.

**OIOIOIOIO**

While Sookie made her call, Eric wandered outside, feeling more at home in the simplicity of the crisp winter night than the modern house that loomed behind him. It was a far cry from the halls he had known, in his lifetime, or the small stone and wood structures with thatch roofs and sooty fires to keep warm.

How very _strange _this time seemed to him. All of it, except for Sookie. He found her to be the one thing he remained certain of, and knew he would do anything to keep that wonderful woman by his side. He thought on the sweet way she'd braided her hair after he mused it with their lovemaking, how she'd tamed it into a thick plait around the side of her head, because he liked it. Because it made him feel slightly more at home, to see her wear her hair in the way women of his time once had.

He wondered if he ever would regain the memories supposedly lost; tokens from this vast great life the others assured him he'd lived.

It all seemed rather meaningless now, except for feeling so very _lost _in his own home. Sookie and Pam had to explain nearly _everything _to him, the trappings of modern life they couldn't imagine living without. Things called plumbing, refrigerators, microwaves, electricity, light bulbs. Coffee. Heat at the press of a button. Water, at the turn of a dial. Boxes with moving pictures, flashing colors, beautiful people with nothing much to say. The airplanes that flew overhead, and the great metal wagons that flew past without horses, roaring as bears in their flight. The idea of computers, he still could not quite fathom.

Synthetic blood. A revolting idea.

The atomic bomb. How _stupid _were humans these days, to invent such a thing?

There was one room in that house of which he understood perfectly well. The armory, the mirrored studio with a wall filled top to bottom with weapons. One sword caught his eye, a beautifully crafted thing, the haft filled with Viking scrolling, a dragon upon the pommel, the sacred runes inscribed upon the blade. It had been his fathers, then his, and he felt some peace to know his present self seemed to cherish it as much as his past.

The sword now rested in the living room upon the mantle, in easy reach. He would have preferred to keep it strapped to his back or his hip, but Sookie and Pam both seemed to frown on this idea.

What world were they living in, that a man could no longer carry the means to defend himself? Was it really so much safer now? So much more civilized?

As Eric knew the human animal, he doubted it had changed so very much, from the age in which he lived. There were predators, and there were prey. Nature's way, whether you walked on two legs, or four.

Restless, Eric wandered through the yard, and found himself walking towards the clearing once more in the woods.

He sat upon a tree stump there, and contemplated the life he'd survived. The people he'd left behind. He thought of his loyal raiders, his closest friends from a-Viking, who chose to follow him to their deaths in hopes of avenging their own lost families. He hadn't been the only one to lose everything that fateful day, when the wolves razed their hamlet.

How unjust, that he should still live as a monster, while they went to their graves? Probably laughing all the way to Valhalla, thought the Viking. Now, they were drinking mead with their families, swiving their wives and other beautiful women, perhaps the Valkyries themselves. Eric wondered if the dead could see past the rainbow bridge from Asgard to Midgard, if any of them ever watched their chieftain, walking through ten more centuries of the pains and joys of a physical life. He wondered if maybe they envied him, or most probably, pitied him.

Soon, his thoughts turned to Thyra, the woman he'd loved, and left, in this very clearing. He would swear it, up and down, that once a finely crafted cabin stood here. A shelter where she'd dragged his nearly lifeless body, stronger than she looked, dressed his wounds and washed him. A place where he'd wrapped her wealth of red hair around his fingers, pulled her into passionate kisses, and dared hope to start over in her arms one day.

That elusive idea, of _one day_.

She'd wanted a son, so very dearly, and he wanted to give her one. Two, five. And daughters too. As many as they could manage. That was the way of the world, back then.

Apparently, he had managed, at least once. A son or daughter, he did not know. No one did.

Apparently, his progeny removed by too many generations to count, could also read minds like Sookie, and would be coming over soon to poke about his mind, to try and break the spell. Eric remained skeptical. Sookie did not seem to respect magic, to understand it was something to be feared. A witch who could do such a thing as this? Had to be powerful, dark magic.

The Viking felt Sookie approach, a pulsing warmth, just over his heart. Faint, but true. _The bond_, she called it. An intimacy borne of she drinking his blood. Supposedly, usually, it pulled much stronger upon them, and Eric couldn't fathom such an invasion of privacy, much less desire it.

"Eric?" she called, entering the clearing. Upon a certain spot, goosebumps marched across Sookie's skin, and not exactly from the cold. She wondered what exactly once stood in this clearing, and why Eric chose the nearby location to build his beautiful house.

"I'm here."

"Henrik will be here soon. Come inside, where it's warm," she invited.

Warmth. Now, a human concern, and such a novelty was that. Keeping warm had once been such a battle to survive, in his lifetime, and now…so easy. This vampire body seemed full of wonders he could hardly fathom.

Though he wanted to linger in the clearing with his thoughts and memories, just a bit longer, Eric rose, taking Sookie's hand as they walked back towards the house.

**OIOIOIOIO**

"Well, shall we give this a try?"

Eric regarded both telepaths with more than a little suspicion in his gaze, as they directed him to sit on the couch. The vampire found this newcomer, _Henrik_, inspired a mixture of awe and apprehension, with a little jealousy thrown in. The physical resemblance between them was astounding. This human, to date, was the closest thing he had to a living son. And yet, he could quite clearly see, that a little more than friendship lingered between Henrik and Sookie. Though they behaved themselves, the longing manifested for anyone with half a brain to see.

Henrik and Sookie clasped hands, magnifying their powers to a degree so that a chill rippled down Eric's spine as they touched his head. He could feel them probing him, as one would try to unbutton a shirt wearing mittens.

"What _is _that?" asked Henrik. Though Eric's mind remained essentially blank to him, Henrik could still feel something as a _wall _about the space that was Eric's mind.

"I think that's the spell," said Sookie quietly. "Look for a weak spot. A fault. Push at it."

The telepaths did, poking and prodding him as children with sticks would investigate a bear cub. As a splitting pain assaulted Eric, the vampire cried out, fleeing their experiment to stand in the middle of the room.

"Almost had it," sighed Sookie, paying her vampire a mournful gaze.

Eric massaged his temples, shooting an apprehensive look their way. He did not like having his mind invaded, and liked the idea of killing their culprit witch much more. It lay in the realm of the _physical_, a solution he very much understood.

"One more try?" asked his sweet telepath, holding out her hand once more.

Before Eric could cross the room once more, the dog Ulf let loose a menacing growl, the hair at the nape of his neck standing at attention. The dog began to raise a racket, snarling and barking at something outside. Suspicious, Eric went to the window, peering out, searching for what this protective hound bayed for.

His answer came crashing through the glass, a wolf larger than any creature of nature, taking Eric to the ground. Four more followed, and as Eric tossed one away, another soon fell upon him, clamping jaws into his leg.

Ulf the dog pounced upon his master's aggressor, giving Eric a window to race to the mantle piece, taking up his great sword. The vampire sliced a wolf in two as it jumped for him, leaving it in two pieces that shifted back into human form. "Filthy werewolf," hissed Eric, spitting upon the corpse.

"Get her to the basement!" shouted Eric to Henrik, who currently sparred with a wolf clasping a heavy lamp in his hand. Eric slay another beast, as several more came through the window.

For a moment, Sookie stood frozen. Not in fear, but morbid fascination, watching the fluid way Eric wielded his sword, dispatching wolves by severing heads and limbs from great furred torsos. Once, this was the way wars were one, the destiny of countries made with the measure of one man's strength against another's. Not by the press of a button.

"Come on," urged Henrik, half grabbing Sookie up as they fled.

Sookie had no intention of leaving Eric, but intended to raid the armory for something suitable. On their way past Henrik grabbed a kitchen knife, and raced down the hall after Sook.

The telepaths skidded to a halt, as a large gray wolf rounded the corner, blocking their path. As it pounced for Sookie, Henrik pushed her out of the way, meeting the beast head on. The kitchen knife had seemed sufficient at the time, but in face of the werewolf upon him, proved a paltry thing. They wrestled upon the ground, Henrik burrowing deep into the animal's fur, avoiding claws and teeth as he struggled for a window to strike at the soft underbelly.

"Get downstairs, Sookie!" he yelled, and she dashed down, in need of a weapon.

Somehow, the doctor prevailed, pushing the carcass that was now a man from him, only to be confronted by two more.

The battle raged on inside the house, blood spilling upon the floor and splashing the walls.

With two dead weres at Henrik's feet, Eric raced forward to deliver the third that harried the telepath.

"Where's Sookie?" demanded Eric, covered in blood but not seeming winded at all.

Henrik leapt to his feet, barreling down the basement stairs three at a time. "Sookie!" he called frantically, but received no answer.

In the armory, an axe lay upon the ground, and a small splash of blood nearby it.

Eric knelt to dip fingers in it, tasting his fingers with a wild fear in his eyes.

It belonged to Sookie, but she was nowhere to be found.

**A/N: Finally, I ante up on the foreshadowing… :) Thanks everyone for your fantastic support!**


	31. Nifleheim

**Chapter 32: Nifleheim**

"No!" bellowed Henrik, reading the grim expression upon Eric's features all too well. As the vampire knelt thinking quietly, his rage a cool and private thing, the doctor paced wildly, clenching his fists.

He'd let them take her, he kept thinking, his mind racing forward in a furious flurry. If for once he'd been better at destruction, he could have saved her. Could have defended her. It was all his fault, he reasoned, from the very beginning, starting with the shadow appearing to him that fateful night. He should have told Sookie, told Eric, so some sort of precautions could be set in motion. Who _were _these wolves? Whose bidding did they obey? Sophie Anne? King Viggo? The shadow?

"I'm going to try and track them," announced Eric calmly, rising to his full height once more. "You, stay here."

In the blink of an eye, the vampire disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, Henrik fought to calm himself. He needed a cool head. Only his intelligence could save Sookie now, he reasoned. Wallowing in thoughts of his own guilt would do her no good.

An idea in mind, Henrik climbed the stairs, plucking a smaller axe from the wall as he went. Better than a kitchen knife.

A heavy metallic scent hung in the air of the living room, the blood of werewolves soaking the carpets in some places so much that they squished under foot. Henrik reckoned the array of torsoes and limbs would make up ten corpses, though he counted distractedly. Almost mechanically, the doctor picked through the corpses piled in the living room, kicking them aside with a methodical foot, until he found the one remaining mind he sought.

The life in this one burned faint as a candle, but just enough for his purposes. The werewolf, in his human form, smiled grimly up at the doctor, teeth stained with blood. "They told us the vampire would be as a newborn," mused the wolf quietly, aware that he was dying.

"They who?"

The wolf gave no answer, but Henrik fought past the barriers of his mind, catching a flash of a dark-cloaked figure.

An answer to _one _question.

"Where are they taking her?"

"To earn our cut." Again the were said nothing of use, laughing defiantly, but Henrik concentrated hard, and gleaned a series of images from the were's mind. A dark, cavernous place, like a warehouse. A throng of bodies, people and creatures shouting, offering money. A frightened girl held by the scruff of her neck on a stage by a vampire nearly seven feet tall. And one word: Nifleheim.

"Their trail disappears at the road."

Henrik jumped at the sudden appearance of Eric behind him.

"There must have been a car waiting for them," said the doctor quietly, watching the life fade from the werewolf's eyes before him. He broke his oath in doing nothing to aid him, but the telepath could conjure no remorse. Something hardened in him that night, and suddenly Henrik felt certain he could be capable of a great many things he'd never even dared imagine, to get Sookie back.

Henrik stood, turning his back on the bloodbath, letting the axe in his hand drop to the floor. He didn't think he would need it again that night.

At that moment, Pam returned home, having felt the distress from the faint bond still shared from her maker. "What happened here?" she demanded. She'd been searching the underbelly of the vampire world for tell of a witch.

"Werewolves," answered Eric coldly. "They took Sookie."

A harsh swear word escaped Pam's full lips.

"What did you learn?" Eric asked of the remaining telepath.

"Mostly just images. Their master is a vampire who goes about in a dark cloak. He possesses some sort of magic. Maybe even magic enough to wipe your memory."

"Ah, our witch," hissed Pam. She'd encountered rumors of some new power in town, but could not get much further than that.

"What does Niflheimmean to you? I saw something like a warehouse. An auction house, maybe - - there was a crowd shouting bids to a stage."

Eric looked to Pam, who seemed to have paled. "Nifleheim is a legendary market in the north, supposedly run by a giant. A telepath would fetch a pretty price there."

"How do we find this market?" demanded Eric.

"Viggo would know." Pam seemed reluctant; they'd been trying to keep the vampire king out of their troubles with Eric's memory, fearing someone might decide to pounce upon the weakness. However, Viggo hated werewolves almost as much as Eric; she didn't see him suddenly deciding to drum up business with the two-natured.

"How soon can we leave?" asked Henrik grimly.

"You're not coming with us," drawled Pam. "We have enough to worry about, without babysitting the likes of _you_."

In his mind, Henrik spat curses, but outwardly he kept calm. "I know I'm not a fighter. But _this _might come in useful to you again," said the telepath, pointing at his head.

"The boy has a point," interjected Eric, "Let him come." The vampire paid the telepath an evaluative gaze, as though he sensed the changes taking place inside, determination taking route. Old boundaries breaking, new maps being drawn. With a warrior's appraising eye, Eric knew a man with the will stood before him. All that remained would be to find the way.

**OIOIOIO**

As soon as the trunk opened, Sookie let fly a mighty kick, catching a werewolf in his jaw. His friends laughed at him, bantering rude things about his inability to deal with a little woman, even as they themselves had trouble drawing her out of the car. Her hands duct taped behind her back, as well as her mouth sealed by the all-purpose tape, Sookie still put up a stellar struggle.

One of the wolves lost his temper, back handing her hard enough to cause stars to dance across her vision.

"Careful, gentleman," hissed a voice from behind the crowd. "Injure her too badly, and you'll lose your payment at the auction block."

Sookie glanced up through a swollen eye, to regard a tall figure swathed in black. She could not make out his features past the shadows of his hood.

"Get her out of here," barked a voice she did recognize. Fröde stepped into her line of vision, smirking her way. The vampire knelt down beside her as a needle pierced her thigh. "Poor little Sookie. What will Eric do without you?" snickered Fröde. His face swam in her vision, and she passed out before she could spit in his face in answer.

**OIOIOIO**

On the brief flight to Östersund, a city in the north of Sweden near the border of Norway, Henrik dreamt of a cold and dank place, the rooms reeking of unwashed bodies, as well as the sorrow and pain of others. His hands were tied behind his back, his limbs putty - - he could hardly move. Ice covered the walls, and down the hall, someone wept, a high and piteous cry.

The telepath awoke, feeling certain Sookie was alive, but held captive.

It was Viggo's own private jet, lent to them, along with a guide. The King had been most generous when they'd gone to ask for his help in finding the slave market Nifleheim. "I would go with you myself, but as you can see, I'm not at my best," had said the King, too weak to even rise from his bed to greet his maker.

Eric gave a stellar performance, after being prepped by Pam, and not a soul seemed privy to the fact a thousand years was missing from the Viking vampire's memory. "I will recover my woman, and then we'll see you to rights," Eric had assured his child. But Eric recognized the look in Viggo's eyes, the fading light of a warrior who felt certain he would die of his wounds.

"She's alive," said Henrik. "I can feel her."

"How is this possible?"

"I don't know," confessed the telepath. He'd never quite come to understand his bond with Sookie. Sometimes, the barriers between them just seemed more insignificant than usual. Like things such as skin, and bone, were of less consequence to them than others.

"And it is true, that you love her?"

Henrik sighed, sinking farther in his chair. The guilt had been gnawing upon him, since he let Sookie slip through his fingers. After evaluating what he would give, to see Sookie safe, he realized he would give absolutely anything. "Deeply," he confessed, even as the vampire's pale blue eyes bore into him.

"Would you die for her?"

A chill passed down Henrik's spine, for the hard way the vampire stared at him.

"Yes, I would," Henrik answered gravely, knowing it to be entirely too.

Eric did not seem to doubt him.

"Good," the vampire simply answered. "Was that the first you'd ever seen a werewolf?" Eric asked, taking Henrik a bit by surprise. He expected some sort of threat or jealous posturing, but the vampire didn't seem to be interested in wasting energy in such a way.

"Yes."

"And you killed two. Impressive."

"While they made off with Sookie. I won't be accepting any medals anytime soon."

"Did you know my family was slaughtered by werewolves? My whole village, actually. And eventually, all my comrades in arms. Seasoned Viking warriors, Henrik. So if Sookie's still alive, we could certainly do worse."

The plane landed, where the vampires were met by a Land Rover. In the end Pam remained back in Stockholm, keeping her ear to the ground, while Eric, Henrik, and the guide Micke began their journey north towards Nifleheim.

"My people believed Nifleheim to be the realm of the ice giants," said Eric quietly, staring out the window. "A cold place, that would devour the world with its darkness, envelope it into a hopeless void, were the Aesir to not remain vigilant."

"Then for Sookie's sake, let's hope they exaggerate the ambiance of this place."

Micke, a short vampire with eyes dark and fierce as a hawk's, turned a skeptical stare in the doctor's direction. He had traveled the crowds of the Nifleheim auction house in a different life, and walked the back rooms where the merchandise was kept. Neither of his companions wished to know Eric did not exaggerate in his description - - and so he stared ahead at the road.

They would find out soon enough.

**A/N: Thank you so much, everyone! Hope you enjoyed, and more to come soon!**


	32. Auction Day

**Chapter 33: Auction Day**

Freezing cold, Sookie huddled in a ball on the damp floor, shivering. She thought of Eric, and his sweet kisses. She thought of Henrik, and his warm smiles. She thought of Inga, her fireplace back in Stockholm, and the sweltering heat of her home state. Anything to take her mind off of this miserable little room carved of rock, the whimpers from the cell next to her, and the lustful shouts that echoed down the halls.

"You're up, sunshine," barked a harsh voice, and Sookie drew into a tighter ball as the door to her cell creaked open.

A rough hand grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet, and Sookie's foot connected with his shin.

"Whore!" A large hand pulled back to deal a blow, but his comrade caught the thug's wrist.

"Save it, Blor. Not on auction day."

"You're lucky, tramp," grumbled Blor, pushing Sookie ahead of him. "Now walk."

She did, even if with a limp. Blor and his companion dragged her down the hall and through a side door, where they handed her off to a vampire who stood at least seven feet tall. He flashed her a smile filled with extra sharp teeth, and on instinct she recoiled.

"Oh no you don't." He dragged her up a set of stairs, and past a curtain.

The sudden brightness startled Sookie, after so many hours of dank darkness. However, it was the crowd before her that terrified her, a teeming mass of people and creatures of all walks. Thought patterns of all shades and forms assaulted her, flashes of unpleasant images in which she starred, as well as words in a dozen different languages. She could guess their meanings, could feel the slimy underbelly of their intent.

"Settle down!" bellowed the vampire beside her, clearly enjoying the chaos of the room. "And the item you've all been waiting for. A telepath, of approximately 25 years, in _excellent _condition," he leered, giving Sookie a hard spin for a full view of her wares. "We'll start the bidding at 70.000 Kronor."

Many seemed willing to pay it, and bile gathered in the back of her throat as the reality of her situation settled upon her. She was being auctioned off. She could be sold to anyone, taken anywhere. Be forced to endure anything, if she couldn't escape. With the bond so weak, how would Eric ever find her?

Before she knew it, she was the subject of a bidding war between a dark and gnarled creature Sookie felt certain must be a troll, and a vampire that dressed as a member of the Russian mob. It went up to 500.000, when it seemed the troll would win.

Sookie counted the seconds passing in heartbeats that thundered in her ears, as the room remained silent, the troll's twisted smile spreading wider and wider in anticipation of its prize, blocky and rotting yellow teeth revealed in the action.

Its thoughts were a broken series of images to Sookie, but she gathered the impression the troll might be planning to eat her flesh for the delicacy in it.

"800,000 Kronor," called a clear and cultured voice over the crowd, a bell in a belfry full of bats.

Sookie looked up from her feet, to regard the owner of said voice, peering all the way to the back to catch a glimpse. Her breath came quick with recognition, blue eyes widening with even more alarm.

She might have preferred the troll.

**A/N: Short, but more to come soon... Thank you so much, everyone!**


	33. Into The Mountain

**Chapter 34: Into the Mountain**

Two hours northwest of Östersund, up a windy and snowed mountain road, Micke pulled the Land Rover to a stop at long last. "We go on foot from here," he explained, falling down out of the SUV.

Henrik regarded the steep rock face before them with great apprehension, covered in ice and snow. "How…"

"Grab on," instructed Eric.

With Henrik attached to his back, they scaled the rock face, until finding a cave hung thick with icicles. "There are many entrances to Nifleheim," Micke explained. "This is but one mouth into the devil's belly."

They entered the cave, and descended down into the darkness.

At long last, the trio reached what Henrik equated to a reception desk, two squat but solid armed guards brandishing axes, preventing further entry into the cave.

Dwarves.

"Greetings," called Micke. "We've come to speak to Wyglef."

"He's a little busy. Business hours."

"When is it not? We come on behalf of the King of Sweden, my friends. We're looking for something _special_."

The dwarves exchanged glances, then with a shrug, gestured for the trio to continue on.

"Quite a trip through Norse mythology," grumbled Henrik, stumbling upon a stone, blind as a bat in the dark. Eric steadied him by clapping a hand upon his shoulder.

"Best stop thinking of it as mythology then," countered Eric.

Micke seemed to know the right people to talk to, and soon they found themselves in a meeting with a vampire that stood a good eight inches taller than Eric. "Micke, it's been a long time."

Micke shrugged, appearing nonchalant. "What's a century, between beings like us?"

"Indeed. What do you want?"

None could tell if the toothy vampire, who possessed far more sharp teeth than only his fangs, smiled or bared his teeth at them.

"We're looking for a girl who might have passed through here. A human," cut in Eric. "Medium height, blond, blue eyed. You have seen her?"

Henrik concentrated upon the vampire before them, with all the mental strength he possessed. For Sookie's life, he pushed against that barrier that separated him from a vampire's mind, storming the gates as a berserker on a quest.

"She sounds delicious. But Micke should have told you I don't answer questions like that. Goods come in, and they leave, anonymously."

Eric stiffened slightly, just the slightest indication of the rage boiling inside. He felt certain this vampire knew exactly of whom they spoke. That he possessed the answers they needed.

If he attacked, the guards at the door would be upon them in a few seconds flat.

Could they fight their way out, so far underground?

Even if they made it past the guards, there was a whole cavern full of nasties to make it past, to get to Sookie.

Without the right touch, they would never emerge from Nifleheim alive.

Sensing Eric's tension, Henrik clasped the Viking's arm, seeking to stay his hand.

"Well then, we won't waste anymore of your time," said the telepath.

Suspiciously, Wyglef watched them leave.

Henrik's heart felt as though it verged on explosion, until they emerged into the fresh if not freezing air. And he remained silent, until the vampire navigated their descent back down to the Range Rover.

"Well, that was pointless," grumbled Micke, starting the engine.

Eric, however, ignored their guide, turning in his seat to regard Henrik with an intense stare. The telepath shook slightly, from nerves or exhilaration, he could not be sure. "Where is she?" he demanded, knowing Henrik would not have volunteered their exit without the information.

"Queen Sophie Anne bought her, just hours ago," Henrik revealed. "She'll be headed to New Orleans, I'm sure, but if we hurry we might catch them at the airport in Östersund."

Micke glanced into the backseat, dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. "How does he know that?"

Henrik looked out the window, to the rocky crag that housed such hellish things within. He stood amazed that he'd been able to break through the vampire's mental barriers - - as a grandmother suddenly able to lift a car from her grandson, he'd pulled upon unknown reserves of mental strength, and the telepath couldn't be sure he could duplicate the trick again.

"None of your concern," Eric assured him.

**OIOIOIO**

The snowy landscape seemed to glow as they wound down their secluded mountain road, trees looming tall on one side, a steep drop off plummeting down on the other.

This did not worry Henrik, until two figures suddenly appeared in their headlights, causing Micke to slam on the brakes. The Land Rover skidded in the snow, the back wheels halting just shy of the precipice.

One beckoned for Eric to exit the SUV, and he did so, taking his great sword with him.

"Wyglef wishes to speak with you again," said one.

"We're in a hurry."

"Too bad. Come back up the mountain of your own will, or we will take you."

Eric drew his sword from its scabbard, the long blade singing out in its freedom.

"It will have to be the last, I'm afraid."

And Henrik watched in fascinated horror, as Eric cut down the first vampire that rushed him, a powerful stroke that separated the vampire's head from his shoulders.

Cursing, Micke pushed out of the car to join the fray, breaking off a nearby tree branch to use as a stake.

The second vampire proved much more difficult, equal in skill and perhaps age to Eric. As Micke rushed him, their attacker tore out the small vampire guide's throat, sending him to careen over the side of the cliff.

"My god," Henrik gasped, spilling out of the Land Rover. Watching with a fascinated terror, he picked up Micke's tree branch stake, feeling perfectly helpless as Eric and the last vampire circled each other.

"There's quite a hefty price out on your head," said the incensing vampire. "We intend to collect in full."

"A price to be paid by whom?"

"The treasury of King Viggo is footing the bill, I hear. How's it feel to be betrayed by your own child?"

Eric slashed and missed the quick vampire. He thought on his ailing child, a bedridden vampire, of all absurd things. Perhaps he'd lost his memory, but not his sense. Clearly something foul ran afoot at the court of King Viggo.

Again, Eric struck out, and the vampire knocked away his sword, leaving them to struggle hand to hand. The pair grappled for the upper hand, exchanging vicious punches that would have caved in the skull of a human opponent. Precariously, they neared the edge, and Henrik attempted to rush in with his tree branch to end the fray.

However, their attacking vampire proved too quick, knocking the telepath away with a kick to the torso, sending him reeling through the snow. Henrik coughed blood, certain a few ribs to be broken.

"You must find Sookie!" Eric called to Henrik, as with a hand around his throat their attacker inched the Viking over the edge, bit by bit. "Promise me!"

His head spinning, Henrik pushed to his feet, trying to get to Eric, fighting through the crippling pain stabbing at his side. If the vampires went over the edge, the telepath felt certain they both would be lost.

"NO!"

Eric gained the upper hand at the last moment, tipping his opponent over, but the vampire would not go alone into the abyss. He pulled Eric with, and neither even cried out as they disappeared from the brink.

Henrik peered over the edge, frantically searching for some sign of the Viking vampire. The wind whipped at him, howled through the trees, biting at his skin, and he only beheld a consuming darkness of the chasm below.

Could vampires die of a fall?

In shock, Henrik sat back in the snow. How would he navigate the world of vampires without Eric? How would he save Sookie? On wobbly legs, he sat for quite some time, hoping the playful Viking would pop back over the edge with a rogue smile and a punch line. _Just kidding, blood bag. _

He hoped for this _badly_, and not simply for the Viking's use in finding Sookie. Somewhere along their twisted and convoluted path, Henrik realized he'd come to care for the vampire Eric, the sire of his family, the rival for his love.

No such luck.

The wind picked up, snowflakes beginning to fall, and Henrik realized with a terrified and sinking certainty, he was on his own.

Still in shock, the telepath limped to the Land Rover on wobbly legs, clutching his side. He needed to wrap his ribs, at the very least he knew, but there was no time to linger. Other vampires could come out of Nifleheim looking for their companions, and god knows what else.

"_Jävlar!_" he swore, striking the steering wheel with his palms. It proved a mistake, sending a bolt of pain through his side.

What now?

He had to get to New Orleans, and it seemed trouble could be waiting in Stockholm. It was a chance he couldn't take. He would cross the border into Norway he decided. Catch a plane from Trondheim to Oslo, and from Oslo to the Big Easy.

He did not think is possible for this sense of loss and responsibility to weight heavier on his heart, but the northern mountains were just full of nasty surprises. Terrified but determined, Henrik started the Land Rover, and navigated back down the mountain to catch the road to Norway.

**A/N: A quick update makes up for yesterday's cliffy? Lol. Thanks so much for reading, everyone! Silly as it may seem, it really, truly means the world to me. :)**


	34. Working Girl

**Chapter 35: Working Girl**

Gradually, Sookie awoke, taking in her surroundings a bit at a time. She started with herself, the aches and pains that accosted her, the burning around her mouth from being gagged for a long period of time. But her weight sank down into the bed beneath her, a real feather mattress, covered in the softest velvet coverlet. She dared look from side to side, taking in the lavishly appointed apartment around her.

"Finally, Sook, you're awake!"

Sookie started at the perky sound, an accent that had become foreign to her, and peered down to the foot of the bed to find a surprising, even welcome, sight. "Hadley?"

"Yes ma'am."

Her cousin came around to sit down beside her, stroking a strand of hair away from Sookie's face. "Boy howdy, did Sophie Anne pay a pretty penny for you. Rescued you right from under the noses of them nasty things in Wiffletime or whatever."

"Nifleheim," grumbled Sookie. She knew immediately that her long lost cousin had been turned vampire, by the signature of her mind. She also couldn't help but notice the language her cousin favored: _rescued_, as opposed to _purchased_, as one is not supposed to be able to do with a living human being in this day and age.

"Why…how are you here, Hadley?"

"I'm the queen's mistress, Sook. She's been right nice to me."

Hadley certainly appeared happy, and healthy - - in the way one keeps a prized pet plump and satisfied. It suddenly became quite apparent to Sookie how the queen had learned of her abilities, tipping this whole mess to a beginning. Better yet, Hadley certainly wouldn't understand she'd been in the wrong; Sookie couldn't even be mad at her.

"Well, let's get you cleaned up. You've been out for a while now, Sook, you smell pretty ripe. Sophie-Anne wants to talk to you as soon as possible, but you've got to look presentable."

**OIOIOIO**

Eric regained consciousness slowly, his vision clouded. The last thing he remembered was taking a tumble over a sheer rock face with that vampire. And now? His wrists burned, chained above his head. He'd been stripped to the waist, and everywhere ached, some bones felt broken. He knew he needed blood, and didn't see himself receiving any in the near future.

"Ah, look who's finally awake."

Eric squinted into the shadows, searching for the owner of the voice.

A cloaked figure separated itself from the darkness, his features completely obscured by a hood.

"Show yourself."

"Patience, patience. We've been waiting for this moment a good eight hundred years, you and I."

Though Eric could not see past the hood, there was a tickle of recognition in his mind. A signal that he should _know _this mysterious figure. Yet he could not fight through the fog upon his memories, and the man in black remained nameless.

"The spell worked well, I see."

"You did this?"

"All it took was a vial of your blood from that lab of Ibsen's, and you played right into my hands. At long last, I will have my revenge."

"Who _are_ you?"

The shadow sniggered. "I suppose I can't blame you now, for not remembering. The spell was to render you helpless as the day you were born vampire, and I think it succeeded."

"Your _name_," growled Eric, already tiring of games.

"A thousand years ago, a vampire named Appius took you for spite. He took you because you amused him, daring to fight against his power, even without a hope of winning. He killed your family and your friends, toying with you all the while.

"There was another who traveled with you, for a good long time. I helped Appius initiate you into the games of the vampire." Extending a gloved hand, the shadow gripped Eric's jaw roughly, turning his gaze upward. "And as soon as I dared leave my fool maker for adventures of my own, so infatuated was he with your beauty that he could not see the murder in your eyes, you killed him. And I have owed you for that ever since."

The vampire swept back his hood, to reveal not a hideous visage, but a face too striking to ever be mistaken for human, much less be forgotten. Pale skin shone as the moon, dark straight hair swept back in a braid, and eyes black and smoldering as smithy coals bore into Eric. "What are you?"

"I am vampire, just as you."

"But you have magic."

"Appius chose me for it. I am half fey, and was the most powerful shaman on my island, before he snatched me up. And you've been a dangerous one, with powerful friends all these years, Eric. I've waited for _just _the right moment to catch you."

"You feared me, though you're my elder."

"Not anymore." Producing a silver knife from his cloak, he sliced deeply into Eric's wrists, parallel to the tendons, encouraging the blood to spill forth. "I'm going bleed you, to make you weak, but I won't allow you to die. You're going to suffer, and it makes me glad."

"Playing nice in here, Fionn?" asked Fröde, coming to stand beside the dark vampire.

"Just getting reacquainted. I rather like him here, chained to the wall, helpless. Thinking about all he's lost. His lover, auctioned off like the whore she was. His child, wasting away in bed like an old woman. His _other _child, chained to the wall in the very next room."

"Viggo's sickness is also your magic, I assume," growled Eric.

"Of course. I'm giving the throne to Fröde. In return, I answer to no one in Sweden. Much as the arrangement you had with Viggo. I will hunt as I like, I will do as I like."

A small smile curled Eric's lips, which seemed to incense Fionn. "What could you possibly be smiling about, Northman?"

"I'm thinking about the ways I could kill you, once I get out of these chains. Just a fair warning."

"Oh, how sweet. You still have hope. Don't worry, we'll do something about that right away."

He turned to go, leaving a whispered instruction with the guard. Fröde soon followed, and it became quite clear to Eric who would truly be king, once Viggo died. Fröde lied to himself, if he thought he would be anything but a puppet and a stalking horse.

The guard walked over to a chest of drawers, drawing out a syringe filled with a gray liquid. "A present for you," said he, inserting the needle into a vein and depressing the plunger. Eric cried out as the liquid spread through him, scalding him beneath the skin as it went, sending waves of excruciating pain through his body. "Silver nitrate. Enjoy."

The guard returned back to his post, seeming to enjoy Eric's writhing upon his silver shackles. The vampire could feel himself weakening, and knew it would be a long hard road to make it out of this one alive. He thought of Sookie, her sweet face, the sound of her laughter, and prayed to Odin that Henrik made it out of the mountains alive, and was on his way now to rescue her.

**OIOIOIO**

Clean and dressed to be received by a queen, Sookie followed Hadley down the marble hallway, marveling at the gilt-framed paintings upon the wall, the crystal chandeliers, the thick damask draperies.

Her heart in her throat, Sookie put on a brave face, holding her chin high.

_Eric will come for me_, she repeated her prayer, over and over in her head. She twisted a ring upon her finger as counting a rosary, so many times the skin upon her middle finger began to rub raw.

The queen's throne room proved twice as opulent as the hallway, the finery inspiring awe in the telepath, even as she looked upon the persons awaiting her with a certain disgust. Two towers stood guard, hulking men and quite obviously warriors. Another stood with them, a vampire of close cropped dark hair, and a calculating stare that sent chills down her spine. And perched above them all, Queen Sophie Anne in all her ginger glory, clad in a green gown equal in price to a small car, smiling as the cat who at long last caught her mouse.

"And here she is, the girl who has wreaked such havoc in my kingdom. At long last we meet, Sookie Stackhouse. Welcome to my court." The last was offered with an ironic arch of perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a smirk of triumph upon the Queen's comely lips.

Sookie in turn pressed her lips together, clamping teeth around the protests and insults that fought as demons to free themselves for Sophie's ears. She nodded, offering the awkward curtsy-bow she'd never quite mastered for vampire royalty.

By the look in the queen's eyes, she had a feeling she was going to learn, very soon.

"Do you like your new quarters?"

Thinking on her lavish rooms, a bedroom, bath, and sitting room, all lacking windows, and sealed by a door that did not open from the inside, Sookie suppressed a groan.

"I can't help but prefer my own home, Your Majesty."

Sophie-Ann released a peal of laughter, movie-star perfect, all for show.

"Oh but you _are_ home now, Ms. Stackhouse. You owe me quite a debt now, you know. Yours was an _expensive _rescue."

A brief and bitter laugh escaped the telepath. She'd heard of arrangements such as this across the third world, Brazil particularly coming to mind. After inebriating the simple country men in the wilds of the jungle, some unscrupulous land owners would kidnap them and force them to work off a debt for their freedom, compounding the money owed all the while. Most never made it home again to their families.

"And how was it my need for rescue came to be arranged?" she asked skeptically.

The Queen offered an indulgent smile. "It's not my fault you made enemies in your newly adopted homeland, girl. A friend of mine in Nifleheim alerted me you would be coming on the market- - just business."

Sookie's lips curled in an unpleasant smile. "It's my pleasure to announce to you that Eric Northman will most likely kill you all for this. You could save yourself a lot of trouble, and let me return to Sweden now."

"Ah, Eric Northman. My treacherous former sheriff. I don't think we'll be hearing from him anytime soon."

Sookie's heart dropped to her stomach with dread. "What have you done?" she demanded hotly, stepping forward defiantly. Hadley tried to save her headstrong cousin, but Sookie would not be swayed, until fast as lightning, Andre moved forward, landing a harsh slap that sent Sookie skittering across the waxed marble floor.

"You do not approach our Queen unless she requests it," he whispered to Sookie as he knelt, lifting her head with a fistful of hair. "And you certainly cannot raise your voice to her without consequence. Do you understand?"

Tasting the blood upon her cut lip, the telepath nodded minutely, and the vampire pulled her to her feet with his harsh handhold.

Full red lips curled in a satisfied smile, Sophie shifted slightly in her throne. "Don't you worry about Eric Northman anymore, Sookie. You belong to me now." Andre dared Sookie to defy the Queen's decree with his sharp stare, but Sookie remained aloof, a splitting headache beginning in her left temple. "Tomorrow, you'll start your new employment. You have a big day ahead of you, telepath. Sleep well." With a wave of her pale hand, Sophie-Anne dismissed Sookie, and the telepath was returned to her rooms.

For the first time that night, Hadley appeared sorry. "I didn't know it would be this way, Sook," she said quietly at the door.

Sookie nodded absently, searching for some charity for her dim-witted cousin, and finding the well dry. The side of her face ached, a bruise forming, and Sookie knew in a way she'd made it off easy. That alone filled her with a brand new disgust.

"Well. You've always been a little bit of a moron, Hadley," Sookie sighed quietly, turning her back on the beautiful but vapid vampire. "Please, just leave."

Hadley shut the door quietly, and at long last Sookie took leave to collapse on the queen sized bed in her expensive dress, and weep. She sobbed for the frightening uncertainty of her own future, yes, but mostly, terror for Eric, and what trap he may have fallen into in his vulnerable state.

Once, he'd sent projections of love across an ocean to her, and in her lonely prison she attempted to do the same, reaching out with a new mantra until she fell asleep on blankets soaked with her own tears.

_Be strong, my sweet Viking. We'll make it through. Just hold on._

_**A/n: So, I can't for the life of me remember what exactly Andre looks like, and I plead laziness in not wanting to fish through the books to find out. Help, anyone? A huge thank you to everyone for your awesome feedback!**_


	35. Jailbreak!

**Chapter 36: Jailbreak!**

Henrik held the slight advantage of having previously lived in New Orleans for a month as a volunteer doing rounds for hurricane victims. A map of downtown remained emblazoned upon his remarkable memory. A point of interest he never thought he would be visiting was Queen Sophie Anne's palace, an old mansion of astounding beauty in the Garden district.

From the historical society he obtained plans of the building, and memorized the layout wall by wall, hall by hall. The Queen was not supposed to make drastic changes to the protected structure, but if he'd learned anything, vampires would suit themselves no matter what. If the blueprint remained true, however, he reasoned she would probably be kept in a room in the interior, without window or easy escape route.

For once, the cold wet winter of the deep south seemed a blessed thing. In the guise of a hardcore jogger, Henrik dressed in warm baggy clothes, covering his wealth of golden hair beneath a cap, and donning large dark sunglasses. For a week he included the perimeter of the palace and the public gardens nearby in a running route at various times, even through the pain in his ribs, and by the fifth day the guards sporting dark suits and sidearms hidden beneath their jackets ceased to pay him too much mind.

He scanned their thoughts, slowing his pace as much as possible, cursing the length of his legs and the ground they could cover. The very first day, he caught a nugget, a tidbit from one of their minds confirming his suspicions that Sookie resided within. From the image in the guard's mind, she appeared unhurt but unhappy, dressed in business attire, accompanied by one of the black suited guards everywhere she went.

By night, he felt certain the detail would be taken up by muscle with fangs.

Daytime would be his best advantage. A seemingly absurd thing, the best time to break into a palace at high noon, but the doctor began formulating a plan.

An on the fifth day, the telepath doctor received a lucky break.

**OIOIOIO**

Every morning, Sookie awoke to find her personal attendant at the foot of her bed, holding a tray of food, a freshly pressed outfit laid out for her. The woman was cordial but cold, frightened silly of her employer, and Sookie knew she would gain no help from her. Like a hawk she watched her surroundings, waiting for an opportunity to pounce on freedom. But her guard worked as a well oiled machine, ex police and military mostly, and no opportunities presented themselves.

Sookie would don the suits and heels as though for a day at the office, couture clothing she only knew of because of Pam's tutelage. The telepath had come to know the queen had fallen on hard times, and planned to use her as a lucrative source of revenue, once Sookie finished scanning Sophie-Anne's own human retinue. Every night, after a full day of sifting through the garbage in various employees minds, Sookie collapsed in her bed exhausted.

Sophie-Anne had raised taxes upon her vampire subjects as high as she could without instilling a rebellion, but still, she needed more to keep up appearances. Sookie would have been happy to suggest a variety of money making schemes, such as downsizing, holding an auction of her useless but expensive crap, or getting off her ass and opening her own business, as so many other hard working vampires saw fit to do in this wealthy country. Scrapping the gold alone in the gilt molding could have paid off a few creditors howling at Sophie's door.

With sharp eyes, Andre dared her nightly to voice such suggestions, waiting to pounce on another indiscretion on the telepath's part. Clearly he enjoyed doling out discipline on his Queen's behalf, and Sookie instinctively feared him.

After her first few rounds of mind reading, in the afternoon Sookie would be allowed one hour outside in the yard, behind a high wall, out of public eye but under the scrutiny of her guard, Vinny. She would stretch, jog around, and worship the sun on its rare winter appearances.

In only a week's time spent in a room without windows, Sookie felt something within her begin to wither.

It was in the middle of a sun salutation, (yoga, a savior Sookie blessed Inga for introducing her to), that a familiar mind signature blipped on the telepath's radar, traveling slowly around the wall. It so surprised her that she nearly lost her balance. Her guard frowned at her clumsiness, for it would be his ass on a platter if she came to harm, but went back to looking bored as she assumed a lotus asana.

_Henrik! _she shouted out in her mind, fighting like hell to keep her expression at ease.

On the other side of the wall, Henrik ducked down, pretending at tying his shoe, pulling at the laces. _Sookie, are you alright? _

_Physically, I'm fine, but essentially, in jail. What's going on? Is Eric alright?_

With a heavy heart, Henrik could not think of a quick way to tell her of her lover's uncertain state. Panic and grief would do them no good. _We don't have much time. Do they let you out often?_

_Everyday, around 4:00. I get an hour of exercise._

Rec time, just like prison, Henrik grimaced.

_Then tomorrow, you have to be ready, Sookie. I'm going to get you out of here. When the commotion starts, do whatever you can to stay outside. Get close to the gates if you can._

At that moment one of the outside patrols waved Henrik off. "Go on, move along," he growled. Though it was a public sidewalk, Henrik doubted any of the locals would argue with the brute, and so he didn't either.

_Henrik! Don't go._

_Be ready, darling. _And though it shattered his heart to leave her, Henrik broke into a jog once more. There were preparations to be made.

**OIOIOIO**

In a city of such frequent violence, the telepath doctor knew it would be an easy thing to acquire a firearm. However, he had no experience with the things, and reckoned he would be just as likely to cause an accident with one.

However, other instruments of martial persuasion proved equally as easy to procure, at a pawn shop in a seedy corner of town.

Also, sadly, it was all too easy to find a band of miscreant youths willing to destroy personal property for cash. In this one instance, the doctor felt grateful.

Nearing the palace, Henrik fingered a small shell strung round his neck with a piece of string, rubbing the smooth surface as a worry stone. Little Annika had given it to him before he left in a mad dash for the airport to join the vampires, an early Christmas present she could no longer contain at sight of his agitation. _Don't worry_, she advised with the grave sagacity of a young child. _Uncle Eric will be alright. _In her world, her "sick" Viking playmate could be the only possible reason for Henrik's worry, and he dared not tell her anything of Sookie's disappearance. Henrik had kissed her goodbye, hugged her little body tight as he dared, and pleaded with his mother to take her away to their vacation home in southern Spain until he returned.

He kissed the shell as a talisman of home, said a prayer to whatever deity might care to listen, and tucked it back into his shirt.

At 4.15 PM on a Friday afternoon, Henrik jogged past the back gates of Queen Sophie-Anne's palace, and took a spectacular dive, pretending to trip over one of the gnarled live-oak roots that pushed their way past the sidewalks of the Garden district, making the pavement a small concrete mountain range.

Loudly he called out, groaning and screaming and making a fuss.

"_What's going on?" _asked one guard across the yard over a headset.

"_Some jackass jogger ate shit over the sidewalk,"_ answered the closest guard.

Henrik called for help insistently, and with a great reluctance the closest guard came to the gate.

"Come on, man, you're not hurt that badly."

"It's broken," Henrik insisted, clutching his leg with one hand.

Rolling his eyes, the guard opened the tall gate, stepping out with the intention of dragging the jogger to his feet, and pushing him on his way.

He never saw the Taser in Henrik's other hand, that delivered 19 pulses of 1200 volts to his nervous system, rendering his body useless.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the compound, three teenagers hurled gasoline and Molotov cocktails over the wall. The accelerant erupted into a blaze, licking at the shrubbery, making its way to the side of the house.

Adrenaline pumping, Henrik tracked the guards' minds as they raced towards the blaze, and stealthily he dragged his own limp guard through the opened gate, hiding him beneath a manicured bush.

In the middle of the yard Sookie struggled viciously with Vinny, distracting him so that he did not notice the large Swede with a taser sneaking up from behind.

For good measure, Sookie kicked her limp guard in the ribs, before she and Henrik took off across the yard at the fastest sprint of their lives.

They did not get far, before an angry "Hey!" pushed them to run harder.

"This way!" Henrik grabbed Sookie, and the couple ducked into the Lafayette Cemetery, weaving in between the magnificent and crumbling tombs. A gunshot caused both to jump, and the doctor flinched as shards from a tombstone struck him in the side of the face.

"Fuck!" swore Sookie, grabbing his hand, pulling him onwards.

"Careful, asshole, you might shoot her!" one of their pursuers cautioned his comrade.

Henrik and Sookie hopped the low stone wall, and headed north on Connery to St. Charles, lungs burning, limbs on fire with adrenaline.

"Streetcar!" Sookie hissed in excitement, and the pair jumped on at the last moment, paying their fare, ignoring the strange look the driver paid them. None of the other fares seemed particularly interested when they took a seat towards the back door, hunkering down low. Henrik stripped off his black hoodie, pushing it over Sookie's head. She quickly caught on, pulling up the hood over her golden head, battening down the drawstrings. With a long-armed reach, Henrik nicked the Saints cap from a sleeping vagrant across the aisle, switching out his own.

With a certain satisfaction they watched the suits emerge from sixth street, in a fury and out of breath, shouting into their cell phones. As they grew smaller and smaller out the back window of the street car, Henrik tucked Sookie under his arm, pulling her close in a protective embrace.

He couldn't tell who shook more, she or he.

_Are you alright?_

_I think so. Jesus. Yes, I'm fine. You?_

Henrik wiped at a trickle of blood dripping down from his cheek, dislodging a piece of tombstone as he did. It was the least of his worries. _Fine. If we make it to the airport, we should be home free. _

_I don't have my passport._

_I have it._

He'd snatched it up before leaving for Nifleheim on a hunch.

_Where is Eric?_

Henrik's arm around her tightened. _Can you feel him through your bond?_

_Yes, I think so. It's faint, but…_

_Thank God. _

The doctor told her of their misadventure in the mountains, and Sookie's hold upon his hand tightened to a point that turned his fingers blue. He let her gladly, if just to feel her hand in his, alive and well. _If he's alive, we'll find him, _Henrik assured her.

They descended on Canal street, and Henrik flagged for a cab. Two already in service passed them by, and he swore, taking Sookie's hand. They walked a ways further, not wanting to stay in one place too long. The doctor wished he'd rented a car and parked it strategically, but wanted to show his ID around town as little as possible.

The _whip whoop _of a police siren caused both to jump, and quickly the pair ducked down Bourbon street, which already teemed with a pedestrian crowd well on their way to oblivion, the campy jazz blaring from shops and bars for tourist benefit.

For once in his life, Henrik wished he wasn't so goddamned tall, and hunched in on himself as much as he could. At Orleans they went south towards the river, with the thought of trying again for a cab on Decatur street.

It was in the dark and narrow Pirate Alley, the St. Louis Cathedral looming above them, that they suddenly found themselves on the business end of a service Glock. "Stop or I'll shoot!"

Sookie gripped Henrik's arm, believing the badge fully well. New Orleans police did not have the best reputation for restraint.

Reluctantly, they raised their hands high, and a police car appeared behind them on Royal with lights flashing furiously. "There's been a misunderstanding," said Henrik in an even tone. "This woman was kidnapped by Queen Sophie-Anne LeClerq."

A short and dark man, the policeman's mouth twisted in an amused smile as he approached, his eyes glinting hard as flint. "That's a serious accusation 'round here_." _

The officer from the black and white approached the couple with knight stick drawn, tapping it in his cupped palm. Sookie did not like the situation, or the look in their eyes, one bit.

"I would love to discuss it with your superior officer," offered Henrik, certain this insanity would surely come to an end in the embrace of the American judicial system.

"Sure thing."

The Glock before them did not waver, and Henrik never had a chance to avoid the baton swung viciously from behind, connecting with the side of his knee. With a shout he went to the ground, where the policeman happily delivered two more swift blows to his leg and head.

"Henrik!" Sookie screamed out. The officer with the gun simultaneously pounced upon her, twisting her arms behind her with such strength that she knew he was not completely human. The cuffs clamped on, tight enough to dent her flesh, and both telepaths were dragged to the waiting patrol car, tossed unceremoniously in the back.

"You crooked bastards!" screamed Sookie, kicking at the grate that separated the front and back seats.

"Save it, sweetheart," snorted the driver. "City doesn't pay as well as the vamps."

The city didn't dole out V to her officers either, thought Sookie, but turned her attention back to Henrik, who grimacing in pain, hovered on the edge of unconsciousness. Watching through the window, Sookie could clearly see the police were returning the fugitives directly back into the Queen's tender care.

**OIOIOIO**

Never had Sookie dreaded sunset so much, as waiting in a cell in the basement of the palace with Henrik beside her. She fought to keep Henrik awake, fearing a concussion from the police officer's vicious blow, terrified he would not wake up again. "I'm sorry, Sookie. I failed you." His voice came raspy and soft, and the weakness in it filled her with terror.

"It was a good plan, Henrik. We almost made it," she tried to assure him. "We'll find another way."

"No. _This_ is all my fault," he insisted.

"Don't be ridiculous."

The doctor shook his head adamantly, lolling side to side. "When the shadow man came to me, I should have told you. He wanted Eric, and I said no. I always said no, but I should have told you."

"Shadow man? You're delusional, honey. Just be still."

Henrik still shook his head, but said no more, leaving both to their own thoughts and fears. _They won't kill him_, _he's too valuable,_ Sookie assured herself, even as the cold chill of fear settled into the marrow of her bones. Uncertainty, knowing an angry vampire could be as unpredictable as a cornered animal.

Both knew worse awaited than a police beating and their dank cell, when the sun fell below the horizon.

**OIOIOIO**

"Did you really think you could escape me so easily?" demanded the Queen hotly, her hand fisting in Sookie's hair. The telepath knelt at the foot of the Queen's throne, within the sharp grasp of Sophie's carefully manicured nails. The side of her face burned from yet another harsh slap, but it was Henrik who fared the worst. The queen did not take kindly to fires being set in her yard.

The other telepath lay in a wheezing heap on the floor, his face a mask of blood. Andre kicked him again for good measure, and Sookie screamed. "Stop! You're killing him!"

"_Let her go_," wheezed Henrik, barely able to prop himself up on elbows. "_Take me instead_."

Sophie Anne seemed amused by this prospect, a cruel laugh spilling from ruby red lips. "Take _you? _And what good will _you _be to me, human?" Sookie realized they didn't _know_ Henrik's true nature, only that he was a friend of Sookie's from Sweden, a thorn in their side who could run _very _fast. "Andre, kill him," Sophie demanded. "I tire of this."

"_Avec plaisir_."

Andre knelt to clasp Henrik's head in his hands, with the intention of twisting it off, when Sookie screamed at the top of her lungs, "HE'S A TELEPATH!"

Everyone in the court seemed to freeze at that moment, some for the pure volume of Sookie's voice, but most, with interest.

"Spare him," Sookie begged. "He's a telepath, like me."

Sophie peered down at Sookie, eyes evaluative, but also, gleaming with intrigue. Sookie recognized that green light, and its name was greed.

"Prove it," demanded the queen. "Bring forth a human!"

Andre did not appear pleased to be denied his head, and sneered as a courtier pushed a fangbanger forward. Though dressed to the nines, the poor anemic girl's skin was dull and sickly, peppered with bite marks new and old. "Read her thoughts, Mr. Jurgensen, and save your life," invited the Queen.

Henrik cleared his throat, spitting up blood and thicker things, to make room for speech. "She wishes she'd worn different shoes," he croaked. "These rub on her little toe and hurt when she steps, but were a gift, so she must wear them. She finds you beautiful, and wishes you and someone named Hadley would share her some night."

Sophie looked to the fangbanger for confirmation, and the girl's startled expression said more than her limited vocabulary could ever manage.

"How interesting." Sophie-Anne released Sookie to sit back in her throne, clasping a nail between white teeth, the pensive coquette once more. "Two for the price of one. How many other telepath friends can we expect to come knocking, little Sookie?"

Sookie did not have to feign a sob, as she declared, "He's the only one I've met like me. Please don't take him from me, I beg of you."

"Pity. Release him, Andre." He did so, Henrik's head falling heavily to the bloodstained marble floor.

Slowly, Sookie moved, but the Queen allowed her to descend the dais to kneel beside Henrik, tears streaming down her cheeks. As she clasped his hand in hers, all she could read was _pain_, his body so broken that everything ached excruciatingly.

"Andre, my darling," called Sophie Anne, in a tone of voice of one used to being obeyed. "Heal our new acquisition with your blood."

_You're going to be ok_, Sookie soothed. _It's going to be ok._

"But I believe our friends on the force had the right idea, maiming that leg. Leave it attached, but make sure he can't use it. We've had quite enough running from this one."

"No!" exclaimed Sookie, but was quickly silenced by Wybert's massive paw of a hand clamping over her mouth, dragging her away from her injured comrade.

"Silence!" snapped the Queen. "This is our new arrangement, Miss Stackhouse. Misbehave, and your friend here will pay the price. And vice versa. So be good for us, if you know what's good for you both."

Trapped in Wybert's iron grip, Sookie watched in horror with tears streaming as rain, as Andre opened his wrist to heal Henrik, only to methodically take a piece of him apart again.

**A/n: First of all, let me extend my gratitude to those who reminded me of Andre's specs! I remembered the **_**feeling **_**of him, but not the physical attributes… And second…I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have a great weekend, everyone, and a thousand thank yous!**


	36. Thought and Memory

**Chapter 38: Thought, and Memory**

_On tired feet Sookie hiked through the countryside, exhausted and searching. Searching, searching, but for what she couldn't quite lay her finger on. Not the flowers near the path, nor the rocks, nor the clouds or the snow of the distant mountains. Not the wolves that stirred restlessly past the treeline, or the elk that chewed reeds at the side of a vast lake._

_She knew hunger, but food she sought not. _

_She knew thirst, but no stream could quench her. _

_The cry of ravens called her, and with tired eyes she turned her attention to the great black birds flying above. _

_She followed, because somehow, she knew. _

_In the distance, a knoll rose above the plain, and restless feet propelled her there, and to the tree that grew tall upon it. A mighty ash, so grand she could not see its top branches, lost in the clouds. The two ravens watched her from the branches above, black eyes shining with interest. What _would _this strange girl conquer next? Already, her tale whispered by thought and memory, Huginn and Munin, in the ear of the one-eyed wanderer entertained greatly; the all father awaited the next chapter, as he would await all things, until Ragnarok. _

_Though he stood bound to the tree by shackles that glowed silver as moonlight, Eric watched her approach with the calm of an ancient, something that would still stand when Sookie's bones turned to dust. He bled from wounds at his wrists that would not close, crimson rivulets trickling down._

"_Have you come here for me, lover?" With careful hands Sookie cupped the vampire's hollowed cheeks, bones straining against the skin. She answered his question with her lips on his, and only as their mouths touched did she know some small peace. One by one, she counted his ribs with wandering fingers. She could know the shape of his bones through skin, and in a way she felt wonder that this great man could be filled merely with a skeleton, as everyone else. _

_Then where did he keep his fire? That endless store of strength and fury, the courage to play a hand against death and emerge the victor - - glancing upwards, she suspected he kept it in his eyes. _

_Sookie's hands traveled down his arms to the shackles that bound him; so bone thin, it seemed as though the vampire should be able to slip free, but hands would not budge through such binding jewelry. "Break free," she begged of him. "Come with me."_

"_There's always a price to be paid, Sookie."_

_Sookie pulled at the chains. She pushed and prodded, she railed against them furiously, but they would not budge, forged of stronger things than just metal alone. The telepath screamed in her frustration, and against the vampire's chest she cried for the lover she could not deliver from his bindings. _

_Some unknown thing startled the ravens from their perch, and as their glossy black wings filled the sky the earth shifted beneath them. Níðhöggr the wurm stirring restlessly beneath Yggdrassil, gnawing upon the roots of the world in his restless malice. _

"_The time will come, and we will find a way," Eric promised Sookie, the longing in his eyes a palpable thing as she fell away from him, tumbling back down the hill._


	37. To Live To Fight Another Day

**A/N: Well, folks, this is it. You've all been so staggeringly patient with me, (and my dirty cliffhangers) that I've decided to post all the remaining chapters in one go. Thank you everyone for your support and interest and comments, you've been a great audience! Hope you enjoy, and happy new year!**

**To Live To Fight Another Day**

Sookie awoke to tear-moistened cheeks, a weakness she gave into more and more as time wore on. Daily she fought her demons, helplessness, and hopelessness. After such dreams, to be so close to Eric, only to be swatted away and back to her harsh reality, she feared they were winning.

With every day, the fear set more thoroughly within her. Every day, some new impossible task waited, some new horror of the vampire court lurked around the corner. Like hawks she and Henrik watched for opportunity, and nearly three months had passed without presentation.

After their initial break for freedom, the vampires kept them locked up airtight. No mistakes were made, no windows left open for flight.

The telepaths were kept under a close lock and key, and they earned their keep tenfold, earning cash for the Queen by the fistful.

Everyone wanted a piece of Sophie-Anne's pet telepaths, for truth or novelty depended on the flavor of the evening.

Every night, both went to bed exhausted from their efforts, minds craving a dreamland where they could wander freely, without interruption.

Of one thing, Sookie stood certain. Eric yet lived, but where, or how, she could not know. Always in her dreams, he came to her in shackles, unbreakable fetters neither of their efforts could budge.

Sookie and Henrik saw little of each other these long months, a glance in the hall here, an audience with the Queen there. In passing quick mental messages of fortitude were exchanged, glances of longing, words of love. Silently they comforted each other best they could, but such brief interludes proved paltry in the face of their despair.

Now, after his encounter with Andre's skill at manipulating the human body, Henrik limped heavily, greatly relying upon the use of a cane. As much as he admired the TV doctor Gregory House, it was a physical resemblance he'd never coveted. As Sophie-Anne had commanded, there could be no more quick movement for him. No more jogging, skiing, or Sunday futbol matches in the park. His days were filled by a constant dull pain in his left leg, and it was not long before a Vicodin addiction seemed it would be a rational and welcome thing. However, no such drugs were to be had in his confinement.

Still, he held his head high, and with calculation Andre watched him, waiting for the doctor to try at another great escape. None of the vampires wished to admit how close he and Sookie came to eluding them the first time.

Of all the vampire visitors who came to call and pander for Sophie's telepaths, it was their neighboring king, Russell Eddington, who set Sookie's hair on end the most. A charming devil of a silvered tongue, he courted Sophie-Anne with the skill of the snake who enticed Eve with the apple.

He sent diplomatic gifts to her court, the worst of which, in the telepaths' opinion, a battery of werewolf guards to supplement the human suits who'd nearly lost Sookie. One in particular unsettled far more than the others, a werewolf who surpassed even the mountains Wybert and Sigebert in size. An ex-marine, the wolf named Xavier watched all around him with quick and hungry eyes, an unpredictable energy surrounding him as the electricity of a gathering storm. Sookie recognized it from her time at Merlotte's with Terry, and hoped she would not be near when the PTSD'd werewolf finally snapped.

And to what purpose did Russell pander to the Queen? It was not her lands, her power, her hand, or her favor he coveted. Nay, for the King of Mississippi possessed all these things in full. It was not long before he put forth his proposal to Sophie-Anne, making the greedy Queen an offer she would not refuse.

Sophie-Anne called Henrik and Sookie to her private sun-room to make the announcement to her telepaths, each escorted by their own guard. Secretly Sookie loved this room, its bright and cheerful light, even as she resented the Queen laying out in a swimsuit and sunglasses that no doubt the cost of which could feed a village in Africa for a decade.

"Stop looking so glum," she commanded cattily, tossing her hair. "Such frowns you wear, on a day you're to receive such good news!"

By the flavor of Sophie-Anne's smile, slightly poisonous along with all that Hollywood glamour, both telepaths had learned to beware. She'd come up with some new scheme for them, no doubt, and from experience they knew it could only be atrocious at best.

They couldn't fathom what lay before them, on their most twisted of days.

Quietly, they awaited their latest command, and Sophie found she missed the days when they'd fought with her at least _a little_. Watching Andre dole out punishment in her honor excited her ego to no end. "Well, aren't you curious in the slightest?"

"I can hardly contain myself," muttered Henrik, leaning upon his cane. The weather had changed that day, and the drop of barometric pressure left him aching even more than usual.

Sophie-Anne crossed her legs primly, small hands folded neatly upon her knee. "Well, my dear telepaths, you should rejoice. You're going to be parents!"

Sookie's expression twisted into a mask of fear, mouth wide open in disbelief, as Henrik's brows drew together in a dark frown. "What nonsense is this?" he demanded, earning a thump upon his shoulder from the guard behind him.

"I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before," Sophie went on brightly. "I, in possession of two healthy telepaths of a breeding age - - the trait is certainly genetic. Who knew there could be such a market? King Russell is quite eager to have a little telepath of his own."

Of their own accord, Sookie's hands folded protectively over her womb, her heart skittering around her chest in a fear-fueled adrenaline frenzy. How could any woman be so cold as to sell a child to the highest bidder?

Immediately the scientist in Henrik protested, as the man in him balked in dumb horror at the idea. "The _trait _as you call it isn't so predictable. At best the telepathy skips a generation," he lectured sternly.

"Don't be so certain," snapped Sophie hotly, clearly not in the mood for such things as logic, or science, when money was involved. Russell offered her ten million dollars for a child of extra-cognitive talents, and she intended to deliver. He coveted a telepath all his own, desiring a loyal servant he could mold from the very beginning into a perfect tool.

Henrik realized he could not expound on his certainty, without revealing the extensive research he'd conducted with Dr. Ibsen. Sophie-Anne had not discovered the existence of the telepath center at the University of Stockholm; it remained one of their most closely guarded secrets. If word got out, they knew all their comrades and friends would be in danger of coercion or worse for the rest of their lives.

A sick feeling rolling in his stomach, Henrik bit his tongue.

"Sookie's grandfather had the gift," Sophie went on. "I know this from the research William Compton conducted for me, before disappearing. Can I assume a grandparent of yours also read minds, Dr. Jurgensen?"

Henrik's grandfather ruthlessly built their business into an empire with the use of his gift, always able to keep a step ahead of competitors, dipping into their minds for company secrets, but he felt reluctant to speak of it.

"Yes, my grandfather bore the burden," the doctor simply answered.

The Queen could not have seemed more pleased. "Excellent. Then who knows what results we might get with _two _telepaths?"

Back rigid, Sookie stood stock still, unable to remove her glare from the Queen. Defiantly, the vampire met Sookie's eyes, daring her to protest her decree.

Sookie had stood so strong, in the face of everything. So _very _strong, but _this _verged on the last straw. Though she had not planned on having children, the thought of doing so and giving her child over to be raised by machinating vampires pulled dangerously at her soul, stretching her taut to breaking. A tremor ran through her, of fury and fear. "How dare you?" She could project no louder than a whisper, but the Queen heard perfectly well.

"Thank me, Ms. Stackhouse. You're getting a vacation. Your days will still be mine, of course. You still have a debt to me. However, your nights…" Her eyes strayed to Henrik, raking over his handsome form, a smirk of triumph pulling at the sight of his favored leg, "Should be somewhat enjoyable from now on. _This week _in particular, according to our count. We've been keeping track of you. So return to your chambers, and don't disappoint me."

She returned to a reclining position, adjusting her sunglasses, dismissing her telepaths. "Oh, and one more thing," she called as the guards turned their charges to go, both telepaths in too much shock to go about it on their own. "Don't try to be clever. There are cameras, we can see everything if we wish, and a doctor will be monitoring you closely, Sookie. Unless you want your Henrik to lose the use of his other leg - - or worse - I would do as I ask."

Even as she walked in silence, a ball of rage built inside Sookie. Never before had she hated anyone so _completely_. Wished for their death with every fiber of her being. Not even Bill - - no, this ranked far worse, she reasoned. This crossed the line from inhumanity into criminal insanity, and there was nothing she could do, without condemning Henrik to death or worse.

The doctor brooded as well in his own dark cloud, and only after being shoved into Sookie's chambers roughly by their guards did they dare meet each other's eyes.

For what seemed an eternity, neither could say a word, caught in the horror of the situation.

At long last it was Henrik who leaned back against the door, shaking his head as he looked to the ceiling. "_Not like this_," he sighed, _pleaded_, with some force of the universe to step forth, to deliver them from this hell made by devious vampires. It was as though his fondest wishes, to be free to love Sookie, to make love to her, to have a family, were all twisted and turned against him, fashioned into arrows and fired to pierce his heart.

Sighing deeply, Sookie turned to pace the oriental carpet at the center of the room, feeling trapped as an animal. Tears of fury that had gathered in the Queen's presence finally felt free to fall here, with Henrik. The inevitable hung in the hair above their heads as a guillotine, and Sookie choked, "They'll hurt you. Again."

"So be it," sighed the doctor gravely. No matter what physical pain they caused him, he didn't think it could possibly be worse than conceiving a child with Sookie, only to have their baby snatched away and sold into slavery to a neighboring kingdom.

And though this thought horrified Sookie as well, shook her to the core, she also thought of problems more immediate. After watching Andre torture Henrik while mangling his leg, she knew she couldn't allow the vampire such a reason to lay hands on him in such a way again.

"No," argued Sookie, her tone quiet but firm.

"You would have the alternative?" demanded the doctor. "You could stand it?" Slowly he made his way towards her, and she watched his labored gait, once so athletic and agile, and now painful simply to watch. He cupped her cheek in his large hand, even as she found she couldn't quite bring herself to meet his eyes at that moment. "You could carry our child to term, and lose it to these monsters? Because I think I would rather die than inflict that on another living thing. Much less…"

_Ours_, hung unsaid in the air, and Sookie broke into a sob, clutching at his hand.

"We'll just have to be smarter than them," she decreed through a voice laden heavy with sorrow. "How can that bitch be smarter than us? We almost escaped once. We can do it again."

"That was before…" Henrik glanced down at his ruined leg. Though she could not see it through the tailored slacks he wore, a large piece of thigh muscle had been carved away, and his knee rendered practically useless.

"We'll find a way," Sookie insisted, and the words echoed as a distant memory through her mind as she wrapped her arms around Henrik's torso, settling her head against his chest. She felt stronger just repeating them, and so she spoke them once more, invoking their power. "_We will find a way_."

They stood motionless in an embrace, Henrik bowing his head to rest upon hers. Amidst all the chaos, the demons howling outside, at least _this_ felt right. "I bet you wish you'd never met me that day at Merlotte's," said Sookie softly, her speech muffled against his chest. "I've caused you so much trouble and pain, Henrik. _I'm so sorry_."

Henrik pulled back just enough to tilt Sookie's face towards his. "Don't say that."

"It's true."

And the doctor pressed lips to her forehead, whispering as a prayer, "You're the light of my life, Sookie, even if I can only watch you from across the room. I love you."

"You shouldn't," she insisted, and Henrik's long thumb swept across her cheek to catch a tear.

"This is my fault, not yours. I told you, I knew something was amiss, when that mysterious vampire approached me on the street, whispering of Eric's downfall. I should have told you, and Eric, the moment it happened."

Sookie, however, would have none of it. She shook her head adamantly, her hand fisting in his shirt. "To what end?" she demanded. "Eric and I live on a constant offensive. We're _always _waiting for someone to come after us from the shadows. Do you think we could have found the witch, searching the streets of Stockholm randomly for someone dressed in a black cloak?"

"I had a phone number that could have been traced," insisted the doctor. "Instead of doing the sensible thing and handing it over to one of the firms my father deals with in such matters to have it investigated, I burned it up in a dramatic gesture over the toilet."

"And it probably would have led us to a pre-paid, untraceable cell phone. _This isn't your fault_," she insisted, with some heat in her tone.

It felt good to feel something besides hopelessness. To pretend she amounted to more than a rag doll at the mercy of the vampires outside.

Standing up on tiptoe, Sookie brushed Henrik's hair from his eyes, kissing his forehead, his brows, and down the straight line of his nose. The doctor softened with every touch - - he wanted nothing more than to fall into Sookie's soft warmth, to allow himself to be comforted by her strength and her love. "No one is to blame but _them," _she sighed. "I will blame hunger for power, and I will blame greed. I will never, _ever_, blame you."

A rattling groan escaped Henrik. "Just when I think I have no more strength left, Sookie, you bring reserves like rain brings life to the desert."

Sookie, however, shook her head in denial. "_You're_ always the strong one, Henrik. I'll be your strong one tonight. I'll carry us both if I have to."

"You truly are a Valkyrie," sighed the doctor, envisioning Sookie upon a mighty horse, taking her pick of the bravest heroes and bearing them to Valhalla.

"Am I?"

Gathering his hand in hers, Sookie slowly began leading Henrik to the bedroom.

"Yes."

"Well tonight, I pick you."

She seated him upon the bed, a position of which brought them eye to eye. Their expressions were equally haunted, equally unsure, the thought of being together again not nearly enough to cancel out the gravity of the situation.

Either way, they would be damned.

Even as Henrik's hands went to rest upon her waist, he tried to pretend there was some choice left in the matter. "We don't have to do this."

"They _want _to hurt you again, Henrik. We can't give them an excuse. We'll both need our strength for later." She kissed him gently, and the doctor's resolve melted an almost embarrassing amount, from just that small touch.

"What about Eric?" he dared ask, kissing her once more, lips lingering a bit longer than the first.

Sookie hesitated.

If Eric understood anything, it was the necessity to survive. Would the vampire forsake Henrik, for the sake of fidelity? Somehow, Sookie had faith that Eric would be stronger than that. That their love would survive such a thing, if they themselves could defeat those who threatened them.

"I hope he will forgive me."

Henrik's analytical brain began to run rampant with the possibilities and uncertainties of their future. Say they managed to deliver on Sophie-Anne's decree, and what then? A three month window, maybe four, he reasoned, before Sookie would begin to swell far past the hope of athletic stealth or speed. Then? Say they did return to Sweden, find Eric, set Fröde's treachery to rights. How would Sookie's vampire lover react, to her carrying another's child in her womb? Would she even keep it? Henrik suddenly felt sick, from his heart to his stomach, he and Sookie tossed about without option on the sea of fate.

But he was a scientist, he reminded himself, pleaded with his sense of reason to take firm hold once more. He didn't _believe_ in fate, or even God most days, though in such dire times it would be an easy thing to reach for some higher power to blame. Man's life would be what was made here on earth, by his own construction and consequence of the actions of others. And so he latched onto Sookie's previous assurance, her stalwart insistence, that they would find a way.

With trembling hands, he undressed her slowly, cherishing every inch of newly revealed skin, for he'd felt certain before he would never be allowed such a privilege again. Sookie sighed for his touch, even as silent tears slid from the corners of her eyes. Dread was a specter that lingered in the corner, feeding on their doubts and fears. But it was only as Sookie reached for the top button of Henrik's pants that the doctor truly flinched, placing his large hand over hers.

"My leg … it's not the same," he warned her, unable to speak the word he truly felt.

_Ugly._

She had yet to see his scared leg, and though he was not a vain man he felt conscientious of it. Where he'd never lingered long over his appearance in the mirror, he did take pleasure in the way Sookie looked at him. He feared seeing anything less than that loving desire in her eyes.

"It's not important," she assured him, swaying his doubts with more kisses. "You'll always be beautiful to me, Henrik." And though it sounded cliché, it was the simple truth. And so he allowed her to divest him of that last garment, waiting with dread for the emotion that would break him to play over her features; disgust.

It did not come. Light as a feather, Sookie touched the gouge in his thigh, scar tissue still a slick and angry pink. Andre had given the telepath _just enough _blood to make him _useable - _not enough to make him whole. There was pain in her eyes, and anger for their captors, but not revulsion.

Stripped of their armor, Sookie lay on her back, Henrik leaning slightly over her from his side. They stroked each other slowly, fingertips tracing over skin, relearning the contours of their personal maps, following the veins as rivers, the dips and valleys of muscle and bone and flesh, the forested patches of hair both fine and wiry.

Touch invoked their special connection, the telepaths laying in their own bubble of shared emotion. Even as the flesh became willing, a slow fire stoked to life in both their bodies, neither felt exactly sure how to begin on this new path fate flung them upon. "How…" whispered Henrik, pressing kisses to her fingers as his eyes appeared completely lost. The rest hung in the air between them, filled with fear and desire, and the doctor bowed his head under its weight. "Sookie, I can't - -"

"Am I going to have to rape you?" Sookie asked with a crooked smile, climbing to straddle the doctor, her hands planted upon his pectoral muscles. His upper body remained fit as the day they'd been captured, and she knew he'd devised a way to exercise in his room, around the leg.

Her outrageous comment won her a small burst of laughter, but failed to chase the darkness from his eyes. Henrik's large hands went to rest upon the supple skin of her hips, and his grip tightened as she moved slightly against him, proving all too well that at least the body would be willing.

"That's not funny," he tried to convince her, but couldn't quite suppress a curl of lips. "It's not the act itself, but the circumstances…"

"Are not ideal. But we have to live to fight another day. We can't let them win."

"I wish I could reconcile so easily. I'm afraid I'm not quite the survivalist you are."

"No. You're far too noble. And I love you for it. Even if I can only watch you from across the room," she mirrored with a tragic smile, taking his hand in hers. "But tonight, we don't have to just watch. We can have this." She kissed his palm, the tips of his fingers. "And this." A hand over his other, she led his touch to travel the hourglass curve of her torso, until one full breast disappeared in the cup of his hand, winning her a pained groan.

Suddenly, the doctor sat up, wrapping his arm about her waist, pulling her close. The strength that remained in him surprised Sookie, impressing the cavewoman within her, the lizard part of her brain that sought a mate not for brains but the brawn of a hunter. Appreciatively, her hands glided over his chest and shoulders, raking nails lightly over the bulge of his biceps in a way that won her a shudder of delight.

"What I would give, to be at the ski cabin with you again, like this. Snowed in, with nothing to do but be together. I think those were the best three days of my life, last year."

Once more he proved more capable than she'd imagined, flipping them so that he lay atop her. She didn't know how the pain in his leg affected his movement, and had somewhat expected she would be the one to take charge in this as well. However, something melted in her at feeling him above her, his weight pressing her down into the soft mattress. Truth be told, it was her favorite way to make love, to be enveloped and protected by his warm body

"Then let's go," she offered. Henrik sat up on his elbows, blond eyebrows raised high, clearly not following. "Open your mind to me," she requested, catching his lips with hers, as she pulled at his mind in a similarly alluring way. "We're going _home_," she declared, and as always Henrik followed her, giving in to the world she built for them. Because though Sookie had been born in this humid southern state, it was Sweden Sookie now claimed in her heart as her true home, the place she loved most, the land where she truly _lived_.

In the telepaths minds, the trappings of their ornate prison faded, giving way to happier times. A bright sunlight, of the sort only possible with the reflection of snow outside, streamed through the windows upon them. They lay not upon a heavy velvet bedspread, but the warm, pillowy goosedown Henrik favored in his own furnishing. Bit by bit, both added details to their vision, until the space they occupied felt as complete as the day they'd lived the memory. It came as a relief to them both, this small taste of home, even if only a product of their own imaginations.

"I think you've become the master now," said Henrik, astounded by her powers, sweeping her hair away from her eyes in a tender gesture. He stole a languorous kiss, voice thick with desire and wonder. "The student has surpassed the teacher."

Sookie, however, shook her head to the contrary. "I'm certain you still have a few things to show me," she insisted, moving her hips forward, pulling him into her while caught in the clear glacial blue of his eyes.

With a growl from deep in his chest, Henrik could not stop himself from completing the action, sinking completely inside, a fit so snug as to seem tailored to him. This was a side of him only seen in the throes of intimacy, the only part of his modern masculinity that would give in to primitive temptation - - like this he was simply _raw_, and Sookie wanted to be devoured by him.

"I just _might,_" he agreed, and for a few hours of blessed comfort in his arms, Sookie let him do just that.


	38. His Guiding Star

**His Guiding Star**

For the knowledge of the Runes, Odin hung upon Ygdrasil for nine days without food or water, his own spear piercing his side.

Starved and bled, Eric remained chained for far longer than that, and to what end he knew not.

With tired sunken eyes, muscles aching from silver nitrate coursing through his veins, he looked out upon the rolling land from his great ash tree, its green pastures and vast forests, lakes deep and blue, and mountains jutting in the distance to the sky.

He was no god, this he remained certain of, though other lines between reality and _other _had faded some time ago. At times the ravens would come to him, bearing some small tiding. In his heart he remained certain Sookie yet lived, and he clung to this token as his last thread of sanity.

It was a lone white bird streaking through the sky that drew Eric's attention from the land before him one night. Closer and closer the graceful shape neared, until light as a feather, the swan landed at the foot of his tree.

Certain some illusion appeared only to taunt him, Eric pressed closed his eyes.

"What trouble you've managed to land in this time, my golden warrior."

Blue eyes flew open, to regard a woman now standing before him. Nude as Venus, her skin glowed alabaster in the twilight, a wealth of hair red as rubies spilling down past her waist.

A single, golden leaf fell from a branch above, drifting between them. The woman clasped it between her long fingers, looking upon it intently, before crunching it to a thousand pieces within her fist. "More and more fall with every passing day. The twilight of the Gods will be upon us soon." She released the fragments of leaf to blow away in the wind, the particles glittering in the moonlight as they drifted away. "Once, we were strong in the thoughts of men. The line between our world and yours ran so very thin - now, our bones are weary with the weakness of the forgotten."

"I have not forgotten you, Sinead." Once, he'd known this woman intimately - - had hoped, perhaps foolishly - to build a life with her. But that was lifetimes ago.

In a thousand years, she'd hardly aged ten.

"What _are _you?" he dared ask her, as cautiously she approached him.

"I walk in many worlds, though I have never quite belonged in any of them." Sinead raised a hand to stroke Eric's face, brushing hair from his eyes. "My father was a king of the Fey, my mother, a swan maiden. At the time you found me, I had hoped to make a place for myself in the world of men. And when you left, I realized it could never be so."

"You knew that Appius would defeat me."

Sinead stood on tiptoe to press a cautious kiss to Eric's lips. He did not reject her, sinking into her warmth; there was a pang in his heart, the pain of a love long lost but not dead.

A part of him felt certain he would awake from this dream at any moment.

"I knew the Norns wove a separate fate for you an I. Nothing remained for me in that spot in the woods, but the seed you left in my womb."

"For the sake of revenge, I left you to raise our child alone," Eric mourned, bowing his head to rest against Sineads.

"I only regret that you never met our son, Sigurd. So brave and handsome like his father, though I like to think with a bit more of his mother's sense." Eric laughed, though in his breast burned the urge to weep for all that had been lost.

"And you've been keeping an eye on our line through all these years, have you not? Great Aunt Thyra?"

Sinead's lips curled in a knowing smile; she'd been fond of that particular sobriquet, fleeting though it was.

"It's not so simple as that. I chose to take a place beside my mother in Asgard, but there are rules now. We cannot flit back and forth between the realms as we please. But Heimdall gives me leave to cross the rainbow bridge in times when my kin truly need me. However, all these years, _you _never needed me, until now."

"Had I known you would come for me, I would have chained myself to a wall long ago." Even on the brink of death, Eric could find strength to flirt with a beautiful woman.

"Would you have done such a thing for me?" Sinead seemed pleased by the thought, hungry for a sacrifice. To be remembered, to know worship.

"Yes. All these years, and no word. Why did you not come to me? Not tell me of our child, and his child, all the way to - -"

Once more, Sinead captured his lips, more deeply this time. With every kiss, Eric felt a bit more strength enter his bones, reviving him slowly. "Because you'd become vampire, Eric, and I feared what darkness you might bring upon them, even unintentionally. Sigurd wed a half-fey, as have many of the others, through time. They are a family of light, which vampires have been known to prey upon, greedily."

"I wouldn't have - -"

"You have not always been a saint in your long years. I know, I have seen it." Her green gaze weighed upon him, and Eric found it a difficult thing to meet.

"I can be persuaded to behave."

"Yes. I have seen that too. Your Sookie holds such sway over you. She casts spells without even meaning to - there is great raw power in that one."

"Sookie is no spell caster," Eric argued.

"Isn't she? You are not the only one who is completely infatuated with her. Who would follow her to Hel itself if she crooked her finger. She does not know the power she has."

"You speak of Henrik." Eric's tone came only a shade darker at the mention of his rival. He'd begun to find peace with the boy, on top of Sinead's hands roaming over his form. Slowly, the pain began to subside, and he wondered what magic she worked upon him. Under her breath she whispered the runes for health and restoration, and at long last a ray of hope split the clouds of his horizon.

"Yes. I speak of Henrik. A fine man, that one. He has made me proud. You have to forgive them when the time comes, Eric."

"Forgive them for what?"

"For loving. She loves you both, and there is no true shame in it. She has chosen to be with you, but so long as there is warmth in her heart for the doctor, he will never be free of her."

"It sounds like a curse."

"A curse and a blessing. She is of Niall Brigant's line, and it is a gift they hold."

"Is this a dream?" he posed as Sinead kissed him once more.

"Not exactly." Her lips trailed down the column of his throat, eager for the taste of him. Though she bore fond memories, she'd forgotten how very beautiful her Viking to be, when washed from the grime and sweat of a battle.

"Are we in Asgard?"

Sinead's lips curled against his skin as he questioned her.

"Not exactly."

Vaguely, Eric became aware of their shifting surroundings. Where there had been dark, there was now light on the horizon. The grass below them grew thicker, and flowers bloomed around the roots of the great ash.

"What are you doing?" dared ask the vampire, even as he couldn't exactly be sure he cared. Her magic filled him with strength, slowly restored him. Voraciously, he hungered for the life in her touch, and suddenly felt terrified at the thought of letting her go.

"My powers lay in the arena of life, Eric. I will heal you, so that you can restore order of the chaos that has been wreaked upon our family."

"For what price?"

"You think I would charge for such a thing?"

Slightly she withdrew, so that Eric strained against his bindings, unable to bear the absence of her skin.

With all the might in his arms and all the force of his will, he pulled, until the clear high sound of metal breaking rang through the air.

At long last, he was free.

He looked down at wrists bloodied from the manacles, and they shed from him as an old skin, his wounds sealing over.

Sinead looked upon him with a smile, and no sooner had her lips curled were Eric's upon them, pulling her into a heated kiss. "Were your powers so great when last I knew you?" he asked, laying her down in the soft grass below them. He felt strong, yet light headed, floating on a cloud. As though somehow his hands were not entirely attached to the rest of him, as they roamed over the half-fey's curves below him. Was this her spell, or the magic they always seemed able to create together, he wondered?

"I had not yet discovered their potential," she confessed.

"But little else has changed," declared Eric, gazing down at her soft beauty, pale skin spread out before him as a milky dream.

"I like to think I'm still the infuriatingly stubborn girl you knew."

"I have a weakness for them."

And even with Eric's lips upon hers, Sinead felt a pang of jealousy for the little blond who excelled so well at stealing the hearts of northmen. It could not be helped, Sinead fought to remind herself. Her time with Eric had passed, she lived for other things now. Oh, but she hungered for him, the way she always had. From the very moment she lay eyes upon his broken body in the woods, and realized the spark of life within him had not yet gone. She'd vowed to bring him back to life then, the same as she would now.

"Drink from me, Eric. You will be restored completely."

Eric's weight settled atop her, and Sinead sighed for it, for the cherished memory become reality once more. She had not known the touch of a man in a good long while - - ultimately, she tired of them, and took refuge in woman's ways, in her family of swans. But none had ever quite compared to the thorough way Eric had loved her, and without remorse she allowed him to settle between her thighs.

"May I?" Eric nuzzled the pulse upon her neck, and only then was he reminded of his hunger. How very _sweet _her fey blood smelled, pulsing beneath the skin. He felt dizzy with desire, such things as reason and restraint becoming foggy, tenebrous things within him.

"I'm trusting you not to end me, Eric. Many fey have died in such a way."

He cradled her head in his large hand, marveling at the color of her hair. No human could ever quite match it. "Is that why you have gone all these years without finding me?" he asked, twining a ruby lock about his fingers. "You were afraid I would hurt you?"

"The thought had crossed my mind. I watched you, from time to time, you know. Curious how you fared. If your will as a human was irresistible, as a vampire you became a force of nature. Impossible to refuse."

Eric could not deny it.

"Do you trust me now?"

"More than I did then. Drink, Eric. This is the way our fate is intertwined, it seems. I am destined to bolster you on the eves of your greatest battles." Even with tears in her eyes, she paid him a brave smile.

"Still, after all these years, you love me." It did not exactly come as a question - - she would not risk so much for a passing fancy. For the sake of a family member perhaps, but he knew, in the way she looked upon him. Emerald eyes filled with such a mixture of warmth and regret, memories of long nights spent before a fire, taking refuge in each other from the snows blowing high outside their door.

"My heart will never be free of you," she acknowledged. "But nor do I wish it to. If theses are to be our only moments in a millennium, Eric, then make them a worthy farewell. That is all I ask of you." Her hips rolled against his, tearing a groan from the Viking. Though she knew ultimately Eric belonged to another now, she could not bring herself to remember or care at that moment. She wanted him with such a rabid voracity that had not affected her in centuries, and she felt her claim to be a valid one.

She'd brought him back from the dead, and Eric knew not how to refuse her.

Nor, really, truth be told, did he want to, her lithe live body so warm and inviting beneath him. Past memory and present invitation proved an intoxicating potion; Eric shifted his weight just slightly, hovering outside her entrance. "This is what you want?" he asked of her, rubbing himself against her warmth.

"Yes," she sighed against his skin, thrown into the maelstrom of the memories of him. "One more taste for both of us." With a roll of his hips Eric granted her wish, and a blissful cry escaped her, her head thrown back between her shoulders.

She had not realized how very much she'd missed him, until desire threatened to burn down her door, her golden warrior filling every inch of her once more. As a younger woman, she'd found a prophetic significance in this, she'd so desired the Viking to stay with her. To be hers. Later, she simply realized it to be a rare and special thing. No one, not fey nor god nor man had ever loved her quite the way Eric had, and in her hunger for this intimacy once more she gave no protest. Gladly she forgot the world outside for these stolen moments of bliss in his arms. Only as Eric brought them to the brink did he sink fangs past the pearlescent skin of her throat, and gladly she gave him far more than blood, even as she felt her own self weaken beneath him. Their finish was a glorious thing, neither able to discern where one body ended and the other began.

Eric collapsed atop her, and only minutes later, when he was able to rise upon elbows again, did he find they lay not upon the softest grasses of Asgard, but the cold stone floor of Frode's dungeon. The lines between illusion and reality blurred - - however, he was free, his chains heaped in a pile upon the floor, and Sinead bled from two small punctures upon her throat beneath him. He watched them close of their own accord, and she regarded him with hooded eyes and a satiated smile.

"Can you stand?"

Neither seemed terribly sure of their feet at the moment.

The guard slept in the corner, and Eric wondered what sort of spell the half-fey had cast upon him. Gingerly, he helped her to her feet, and she swayed only for a moment before regaining her composure. Restoring Eric leeched most of her own strength; she knew it would be years, before she felt back to rights. However, looking upon the Viking standing so tall once more, she deemed it well worth the price.

"How do you feel?"

Eric massaged his temples in response. "You have broken the spell." He realized he possessed all the knowledge of all he'd done in his long life. There were no more gaps, no pieces missing. And it was the memory of a bright-eyed telepath that captivated him most at that moment, her infectious smile, and the knowledge that she was in great danger in the hands of Queen Sophie-Anne.

With sorrow in her heart, but the acceptance of the inevitable, Sinead watched Sookie's memory fire the vampire's eyes alight. She knew their short time to be finished already, yet he'd granted her far more than she'd ever sought for herself. "You must go to her. And Henrik. Sophie-Anne has taken them both prisoner."

Eric nodded sagely. "But first, Fionn must die. We'll never be safe on this earth, so long as he walks it. My child is in his thrall."

Listening carefully to the pounding of music from above, Eric knew them to be in the basement dungeon of Club Loki. Neither Frode nor Fionn could be far away.

Another presence caught Eric's attention, in the room next to theirs. He found Pamela chained in the fashion as he had been, although merely starved, and not treated with silver nitrate. With all the tenderness of a father Eric broke her chains, catching her limp form in his arms. "Eric," she sighed, and it was all she could muster.

"I'm here," he assured her. "Stay here, I have some business to attend to. I promise to come back." They left her wrapped in Sinead's cloak, a garment that shimmered as gemstones in the sun.

**OIOIOIO**

Frode lounged upon the throne high in the loft of Club Loki, a beautiful fang-banger lying prostrate at his feet. All was going as planned. Five months had passed as this, and he rather liked being in charge. Slowly, Viggo still wasted away, now hovering on death's door. Soon, he would be King in name, and not just regency.

As a trophy, Eric's sword hung upon the wall behind his throne, in all its terrible glory.

Fionn too seemed to be enjoying himself, having discarded that hideously cliché black cloak he favored when left to his own devices. Some vampires cannot let go of the past, or the garment styles they once lived in.

The party throbbed on below, little mortals whirling about, grasping desperately at something to pass the time before death found them. Frode regarded them over the railing with disdain; but, he liked their money, and the occasional meal such an establishment as this easily brought their way.

The night had been going well; the club was frantically busy, the night's take would be a large one. He'd already fed once; maybe later he would again. These flighty beauties were almost too easy to glamour into returning home with him.

However, when the lights died, instinctively Frode knew something to be very wrong. An eery hush fell over the club, the music killed. Emergency flood lights illuminated the interior of the vast building as a stage; then, the squealing began. Most of the humans headed for the door, rushing to the exits.

So easy to scare.

"Go see what the hell is going on," Frode barked to one of his subordinates. The vampire quickly scrambled to the stairs, only to stop dead in his tracks for the rock that blocked his way. Eric Northman stood at the head of the stairs, his eyes cold as glaciers.

"How the…" Frode shot an uneasy glance towards Fionn, who seemed just as confused as he.

Eric addressed the courtiers that sat at attention, sensing their leader's unrest. "You would let these traitors sit upon your King's throne, while he lays prone in his bed, poisoned?"

Most shot dark looks Frode and Fionn's way - - most suspected them of some treachery, but possessed neither the power nor proof to challenge him. It was the way of the vampire world. However, all preferred Viggo's rule to his subordinates, and none favored the fey-vampire's puppet mastery.

"You have no power here, Northman," Frode spoke, a tremor in his tone. "Your child is dying, and I am his heir."

"Not if I kill you," put Eric plainly.

"So it is true then. You have wanted the crown all along."

"I have wanted nothing but to be left alone. You're free to walk away, Frode, so long as you never show your sniveling coward's face here again. But _you_," Eric punctuated with a long finger extended in Fionn's direction, "Have much to answer for."

Fionn stood from his chair, shoving the fangbanger aside that lounged upon him. "How did you break my spell?" At that moment Sinead stepped forward. Though half his size, her presence commanded the same respect as the Viking beside her. Swathed in a robe of green, she glowed with the remainder of her powers, as a porcupine bristling her quills. "Oh look, you've brought a little halfling with you," Fionn sneered.

Eric spied his sword upon the wall behind Frode. "Give that back to me," he bade with murder in his eyes, and Frode of a mere 400 years could see there remained no choice. Moving slowly, he brought down the ancient weapon from the wall. Eric could sense his treachery from a mile away, and as the younger vampire attempted to take Eric unawares, he caught Frode's arm, gripping his throat in his other hand. None flinched, and some even cheered, as Eric's fingers found their way through the soft flesh to grip Frode's spinal cord, snapping it in two. With disgust Eric sent the head rolling across the floor, letting the body fall where it would.

"Does anyone here dispute my right to this justice?" barked Eric to the crowd, and none proved willing to place themselves in the middle.

Quietly Fionn muttered, and as Eric approached with the great sword in his hands once more, the vampire-fey flung a charm his way, meant to weaken him. But Sinead's magic still coursed within the vampire, proving far too strong. Perhaps she was a halfling, as Fionn said, but half of her blood stemmed from a goddess of the Aesir.

As a second resort Fionn attempted to run, but Eric swung too quickly, cleaving the sorcerer's leg at the knee. Fionn fell with a wail. "You will release the spell upon Viggo, and I will grant you a swift death," demanded Eric. "Otherwise, I promise you will suffer."

Fionn, his face a mask of agony, shook his head to the contrary. "I cannot," he promised Eric. "Viggo will die, and nothing can stop it."

A growl emitted from deep in Eric's chest, and with the tip of his sword he turned his enemies eyes to his. Eric feared Fionn spoke the truth, for in his eyes he read a creature certain his life to be forsaken, nothing he could do to save himself.

"Where is Viggo," Eric demanded of one of the underlings.

"He is sick in bed, in his home."

"Drive us there." Eric gripped Fionn by the scruff of his collar, dragging him behind. Stripped of his magic, the vampire had been reduced to simply another thing that could bleed.

**OIOIOIO**

Viggo's house already appeared to be in mourning, several courtiers hanging about the halls with long faces, hoping for a miracle. No one wanted to see the throne go to Fröde and his cohort, Fionn.

And so it was a relief of sorts, to see his maker Eric approaching, dragging what seemed to be the near-corpse of Fionn behind him.

Supine in his large bed, Viggo could barely manage the energy to turn his head to his maker. "Ah, Eric. You've returned with your lady?" he sighed, eyes fluttering closed once more.

"Not yet. Though I have brought you the traitor in your midst. I fear your second Fröde and this witch schemed to bring you ill."

A grim smile tugged at the corners of Viggo's mouth. "I fear they have succeeded."

Eric stooped down to Fionn, a hand about his throat. "Make this right," he demanded, "Or I'll do worse than take your foot."

A harsh laugh escaped Fionn. "Take the other if you like. As I said, Northman, your precious child shall die. The runes have been cast."

Sinead approached the sickly king, perching lightly beside him. A pale hand went to cup his cheek, and she could feel the spell that was upon him. A dark and evil thing, clamped deeply into the vampire, eating him slowly.

"What a sweet smell you have," sighed Viggo, turning towards her wrist. He had no energy to bite her, but pressed lips to her wrist weakly, dreaming of the way she would taste.

"It is a wasting spell of the darkest sort," she affirmed sadly, stroking the King's hair as one would sooth a child. "Loki himself would envy such an enchantment."

"Is there truly nothing that can be done?"

Sinead raised a regretful gaze to her golden vampire. "I could try." But in her tone, he could read she held not much hope.

Once more, Sinead stroked Viggo's face, winning a baleful sigh. "I know I'm dying," said the vampire. And with what seemed the last of his strength, he held out a hand to Eric. "Come here, my maker. I will not allow there to be bad blood between us. I never should have trusted Fröde, I knew him weak, and now I pay the price."

Eric clasped Viggo's hand in his, and his child forced open his eyes to gaze upon his maker's grave countenance one more time. "When I have passed, the crown shall be yours, Eric. This is my decree, I should trust no other with it."

Some of the hopeful courtiers who had hoped to pounce upon power in Viggo's passing sputtered, earning them a snarl. "Do you hear me, you scavengers?" demanded the king. "Eric shall be King when I die. He is my heir, I declare it now, with all of you witnesses!"

"Save your strength, my child. No crowns will be passing hands. You're going to live," Eric tried to assure Viggo.

"You're usually a better liar," sighed Viggo, settling back into his pillow. "Now go, find that feisty girl you've fought so hard for. I hope there will be many more happy years for you, Eric. Go on, go." Eric clasped Viggo's hand, and between men he knew there could be no more to be said.

Outside the room, Eric nodded to Fionn. "Shall I keep him alive for you, or has he outlived his usefulness?"

Sinead paid the vampire-sorcerer a look devoid of mercy. "I think it would be dangerous to keep him around much longer. Who knows what trouble he could bring upon us in your absence? I know you must go now."

With a heavy sigh, Eric lifted a hand to stroke Sinead's cheek. "I love her, Sinead. Sookie is…the moon that lights my darkest nights."

Sinead nodded, leaning into his touch. "I did not expect anything to change," she confessed, even if perhaps within a hidden corner of her heart, she'd hoped Eric would chose her once more.

But she'd squandered centuries, watching from afar, too afraid of the creature he'd become to approach him. What opportunities had she missed, letting him go through life without knowledge of her? So many regrets, all too late.

"I am grateful to you. I am in your debt."

Sinead shook her head to the contrary, thinking of the favor he'd bestowed upon her earlier. He'd warmed her heart with the fire of their remembered love, and she cherished that, even as she knew she could not keep him.

"You've paid me in full, Viking. Now, see to the snake Fionn and your child, so that you may be on your way. I will do my best for Viggo."

And though Eric watched Sinead's curvaceous form go with a heavy and wistful heart, still he burned to hold Sookie in his arms, and knew she to be the star he guided his vessel by. Soon, they would be together again. He would settle for nothing less.


	39. The Sound And The Fury

** The Sound and the Fury **

Restless, Sookie paced her room. She was due to be collected by her keepers in an hour, for an audience in the throne room. She knew not what would be announced; as per usual, the vampires kept she and Henrik in the dark, and she'd managed to glean nothing from wandering minds.

Protectively, her hand went to rest above her womb, a gesture she'd adopted as of late. A month came and went since the first time Sophie thrust she and Henrik together - - marked by spotting, but no certainties. Vampire doctors examined her often, but let nothing slip. She suspected, but knew nothing for sure.

It seemed absurd, in a way, that her own body should be such a mystery.

Now, nearly two months had passed. She waited for the blood to come, but had yet to find the tell tale crimson between her thighs.

Henrik too seemed frustrated by the fact. He with all his medical training had not the tools in their captivity to unravel the riddle. To know for certain. In their quiet moments his hand often strayed to rest protectively upon her tummy, as though he could divine her condition through his fingertips.

Now, Sookie sensed a change in the bond. Something shifted, a strength renewed. If her heart had been left in an icy crevasse somewhere in the north of Sweden, now she felt certain it neared closer by the hour. Like a piranha crazy for the scent of blood she swam in circles about her cage, waiting.

Waiting.

She calmed herself enough to pull something from the closet, choosing a white dress that for some reason at that moment appealed to her. Perhaps in defiance of the darkness trapping her these long months. It glowed against her skin, and anxiously she waited by the door, as a dog eager to go out into the world.

There was an electricity in the air, crackling in her bones, and she felt certain at long last _something _would change.

**OIOIOIO**

Texas.

Eric never understood why exactly Godric chose Texas to stake a claim, but then again, how had _he _ended up in Louisiana? Some things were simply inexplicable. Fate, a roll of the dice, a matter of convenience.

The land was rugged and dry and violent. It could be enough cause for a vampire.

Whatever the reason, when Eric landed within Godric's compound, he could see the ancient sheriff had done well for himself. He hoped such prosperity would have nurtured a seed of boredom; his old friend had always been good in a fight. It wouldn't do for things to have changed in a mere century since last they'd met.

Suspiciously, the guards eyed him and the sword strapped to Eric's back, but knowing his long association with their sheriff, let him pass.

He and Godric first met a mere five hundred years ago, liked each other's company, had traveled together for a time. Had even saved each other's skins on occasion from this threat or that, and tonight Eric hoped that would stand for something between them.

"Eric, my brother!" exclaimed Godric upon seeing him. "It has been too long." Where vampires usually shy from even a handshake, Godric clasped Eric in a warm embrace. "I heard you'd died in a fiery explosion?" Said tidbit came delivered with a quirk of dark eyebrow, conveying to Eric that Godric believed not a breath of the rumor.

"All ruse, I'm afraid," admitted Eric to the smaller vampire. Godric wore a black t-shirt, and peeking past the sleeves and collar could be seen the dark markings of tribal tattoos, trappings of his former life of a tribal warrior, two thousand years ago.

"I see you've brought arms?" said Godric, gesturing towards the sword as tall as he upon Eric's back.

"I'm going to war," explained Eric with candor.

"War?" Godric's young face fired alight at the thought of a good battle. So few were to be had, in this age of politics filled with talks that accomplished nothing, far as he could tell. "You get to have all the fun."

"I hoped you would say that. Come with me. You can have all the spoils - I only claim the two telepaths in Sophie-Anne's palace. A woman and a man."

"Hmm. I have heard of these telepaths. Sophie-Anne has been pimping them out to vampires all over the country. What are they to you, friend?"

"One, is my bonded. And the other, my great-great-great-mrr. A descendent, if you will. Honestly, it's the girl I am most interested in."

"It always is, with you," answered Godric with a knowing smile.

**OIOIOIO**

Sookie's heart pounded in her chest; she could hardly contain herself, walking between her vampire guards.

The bond fluttered as butterflies let loose in her veins, and she felt certain Eric circled close.

_Be ready_, she threw to Henrik, who leaned on his cane at the other side of Sophie-Anne's throne.

_What do you know?_

_I think Eric is near. Maybe even rescue. _

With half an ear, Sookie listened to the Queen give a catty speech to her entourage. A fangbanger had been chosen to become vampire, she realized, and they were to scan her thoughts one last time before the change could take place. Sophie-Anne had a way of turning everything into a ceremony, much as Louis XIV had consolidated his power. Soon, they would all be forced to be present as she rose and bathed and dressed.

Perhaps not.

The first scream came from outside, a cry of bloody murder brought to an abrupt halt.

For a moment, one could have heard a pin drop within the throne room.

"Camille, go see what's happening outside," commanded Sophie-Anne of one of her servants. Barely detectable, there was a thread of fear in her tone Sookie found she took great pleasure in.

More screams, and the servant Camille did not return from her errand. There was a great commotion outside, at times shaking the whole building. The vampire courtiers stirred nervously, as horses nickering before a coming storm.

Sookie too felt charged to bursting, and sensing his the restlessness in her, the giant werewolf Xavier clamped a large hand upon her shoulder, keeping her anchored at her place beside the throne.

Even still, Sookie could not suppress a smile.

"And just what are you so pleased about?" demanded Sophie-Anne, throwing a sharp look in the direction of her telepath.

There was another crash, and through the windows, one could see a flash of flames licking up the side of one of the wings.

"_The sound and the fury_," sang Sookie, earning a rough squeeze of warning from the were behind her.

Eyes narrowed, Andre strode to bar the door to the throne room. "I would suggest we take you underground, your Majesty." As he offered a hand to the Queen, the doors burst open at the far end of the chamber, splinters of wood sent flying through the air.

Tall and proud as a king, Eric strode through the door, his sword in hand stained red from the battle outside, his eyes wild from the fight. Sookie's heart pounded for the sight of it, the warrior who would walk through the wall of flame to win her. Their eyes met, and something akin to lightning fired down her spine. Immediately she struggled with the were who held her, but to no avail. "Eric!" she called, and hated that it was all she could do with such strong hands holding her down.

"Sophie-Anne," he called in a deafening bellow, extending a finger her way. "I've come for what's mine."

Trembling with anger, Sophie stood from her throne. "How dare you bring such violence to my house!"

Eric paid her a baleful frown, his next words lost in the crash of a dozen vampires exploding through the tall windows of the throne room, falling upon the courtiers with a howl. Godric's vampires came thirsting for a fight, and after making mince-meat of the guards outside, were all too ready to spill the blood of rivals within the palace. The room erupted into a sea of violence, vampire against vampire.

Wading through the crowd to get to Sookie, Eric warred with Sigebert, trading forceful blows that would have sent mortal men careening into the wall. Wybert too joined into the fray, and Eric found himself warring with both brothers. At first they seemed an equal match, but Eric soon took advantage of his opponent's lumbering size.

Sookie watched his battle in horror from across the room, as Xavier dragged her away from the dais. "Help him!" she called to Henrik, who soon found himself in battle with one of Sophie's courtiers.

Said vampire soon found the pointed end Henrik secreted beneath the cap of his cane, waiting for such an opportunity for destruction.

With the lithe reflexes of a cat, Eric overcame one brother, sending Wybert's sword skittering across the floor as he cleaved him. Barely he dodged a blow from the remaining warrior, ducking low as he went on the offensive. Sigebert lunged for Eric, meeting his sword dead on with all his might, knocking Eric to the ground. It was as Sigebert pulled back for a killing blow that Eric prevailed, slicing his opponents legs out from under him, then striking a slice that separated head from shoulders.

In his fray with the second brother, Eric did not see Andre come up from behind. "You will pay for that, Viking," promised the queen's favorite, raising a sword high with all the intention of cutting Eric in two.

Eric tensed to respond to the attack, but a moment later Andre shuddered, a spray of blood splashing across the Viking's face. His head rolled from his neck, the perpetually teenage features frozen in a grimace, dead fish eyes fixed upon the ceiling. Andre's body fell a moment later to reveal Henrik sprawled on the floor, Wybert's sword clenched in his hand, the force of the blow having knocked him off balance.

Henrik read a flicker of surprised approval in Eric's eyes. "Maybe we really are related."

Henrik resisted the urge to spit upon the corpse of the vampire who had so methodically crippled him. "You must get to Sookie. Sophie-Anne and Xavier have taken her to the safe room."

"Show me."

Leaning heavily on his cane, Henrik struggled to his feet. Eric quickly gauged the situation, a certain regret for what Sophie had obviously ordered done to the telepath's leg, as he bolstered Henrik's balance with an arm around his torso. Sword in his other hand, they slipped away from the battle that raged on in the throne room.

"Can you feel her?" asked Henrik as they made their way through twisted hallways.

"Always. Even when I could not remember her, I felt her," Eric assured the telepath. He weighed light as a feather on the vampire's arm, barely impeding their speed.

"You've regained your memory, I see. How?"

"An old friend broke the spell."

"And Viggo?"

"He's in good hands. I have hope for him yet."

Both Eric and Henrik felt a stab of fear above their hearts, and simultaneously turned down a narrow corridor, following the feel of Sookie as spelunkers puling upon a guiding thread.

Knowing her to be near, a hush fell upon the searchers, and only Eric's instincts as a warrior saved them as the largest werewolf Eric ever beheld leapt out from a blind corner. Eric took them to the ground, and the men watched the wolf sail above them, landing lightly a few yards away. Eric leapt to his feet, and a place in his ancient mind couldn't help but compare this foe to Fenrir, the wolf who would devour the world at Ragnorak, the twilight of the gods.

And Eric made war with all the urgency as Odin had battled Fenrir, for Sookie was Eric's world, and he fought for her with every fiber of his being.

Even still, it was not a victory easily won. Despite its size, the wolf managed to stay ahead of Eric, only sustaining minor cuts as it snapped and clawed at the vampire.

Henrik was not left unoccupied for long. Fangs bared, a vampire quickly fell upon the doctor, and Henrik barely managed to keep this one's assault at bay. They struggled upon the ground as Eric and the wolf circled.

**OIOIOIO**

Every second that ticked away weighed heavily. For with a rough grip upon Sookie's wrist, Sophie-Anne dragged Sookie at her side, at times squeezing so roughly the telepath feared her bones would snap as matchwood. The queen boiled with fury, and Sookie feared for her life in the clutches of the madwoman. Blood tears streaked down the queen's porcelain skin. Through the bonds she shared with her children, she knew all three of her most precious and valued vampires had been cut down.

"He dare's steal those I love most from me?" screeched Sophie-Anne, her eyes rolling wildly with fear. She watched the door warily, though a code and a foot of steel separated they from the Viking, she still seemed to fear an inevitable victory on Eric's part. "Then I will take his beloved from him."

Sophie-Anne pulled Sookie close roughly, slender arms as bands of steel wrapping around the telepath, holding her immobile as fangs sank past the skin of her neck. Sookie screamed as the Queen latched upon the wound, draining Sookie's life draught by draught.

_Hurry_ begged the telepath of those who could listen.

There was a furious pounding upon the heavy door, the likes of which that caused

\the mighty thing to shudder upon its hinges.

Still, as her lovers fought for entrance into the panic room, Sookie felt herself growing weaker and weaker, and feared they may be too late.

**OIOIOIO**

"Open this door!" demanded Eric of the last vampire left to guard Sophie-Anne, his large hand completely engulfing his throat, fingers digging into the flesh in a barely-repressed urge to tear out the guard's windpipe.

Though he did not show it at this moment, adrenaline or something like it pounding through his veins, Eric felt himself weakening. He'd lost a surprising amount of blood in his fight with the giant werewolf, from a deep rake of claws and a bite. In the end, he'd prevailed, but barely, it seemed.

Murder shone in the former sheriff's eyes, and the vampire felt certain he would die at Eric Northman's hands no matter what his efforts to save his own life.

"You're going to kill me anyway."

"True death _will _be a certainty for you, unless you open this door," hissed the Viking.

Leaning upon his cane, Henrik joined Eric at his side. As desperate as the vampire, a large hand darted out to completely engulf the guard's forehead. "What is the code?" the telepath demanded.

"Not telling."

Henrik pushed at the vampire's shields, the seemingly seamless and impregnable bubble that was a vampire's mind. In the months of their captivity, he'd been practicing gaining access to the vampire psyche, but found none of the weaknesses that usually allowed him some sort of advantage.

Panic welled in Henrik. He could feel Sookie on the other side of the door, but barely. Though physically closer, he could feel her spark weakening, and that coupled with her left alone with Sophie-Anne utterly terrified him.

"The code, now!" Henrik demanded once more.

He pushed. He pushed and prodded, but gained no ground. The guard's mind proved a disciplined and difficult thing.

In his frustration and desperation, Henrik resorted to something that would usually appall his every sensibility. He thought of sunlight and fire, flames hot and tall and consuming, eating at the vampire's flesh. He projected images of the vampire's skin blistering and boiling upon his bones, as he'd seen too many times working in the ER.

The guard gave a startled shout, and would have bolted, had Eric's steady arm not held him immobile.

"The code," urged Henrik once more, pushing against the guard's mental fortress with every ounch of strength he possessed. And though he put up a good fight, the vampire couldn't help but be rattled by the illusion of burning alive; it felt so real.

_8956._

Henrik leapt upon the keypad, and before Eric could even ask what the telepath had done, the heavy steel door hissed as the locks released, and opened with a well-oiled ease.

Eric made it through the door first, but Henrik not far behind.

Hearts fell at the sight before them.

**OIOIOIO**

Sookie felt her life escaping through the holes in her throat, bit by bit, Sophie-Anne drinking her down.

She knew she had to do something, fast. The boys might not make it in time. She suspected a mere pounding upon the door was not going to budge it in the least.

_Sophie-Anne_, she whispered in the vampire's mind. Over and over, until finally it got through, the vampire drawing back minutely to regard Sookie. "You're not supposed to be able to reach vampire minds."

Sookie merely looked upon the queen.

_You have nothing left. Nothing left to live for. Your children are all gone. Your kingdom is in ruins. _

"Shut up."

The vampire went to latch upon Sookie once more.

_What's the point? You have nothing now. No one left to protect you. Eric Northman will not make your death a quick one._

"At least I will have taken his favorite possession away from him. I will have this small revenge."

_He will make your death all the more painful for it. He will make you last centuries, taking you apart piece by piece, until there's nothing left of you._

"No."

_He will shut you in a box wrapped in silver chains. He'll bury you in concrete and leave you there for all eternity. He'll weigh you down with stones and drop you into the deepest crevice of the ocean. _

"No!" Sophie gripped her temples wildly, and Sookie could see she made headway. "I will kill you. Your life I will have."

_You have nothing left, _taunted Sookie. _Nothing, nothing, nothing. _

The pounding upon the door increased in might and tempo, causing Sophie to cringe and hiss, clearly distracted.

_There's only one thing you have control over now, Sophie-Anne._

"I have control over you."

_No, not even me. But you can control your own true death. Don't let Eric take you alive, Sophie-Anne, you will rue the day. Your sons are gone, they cannot help you. Hadley is weak and stupid. Everyone else here hates you and fears you. You have one thing left to you. _

Sophie's grip tightened upon Sookie, and the telepath swallowed a scream as she felt her bones shift under the pressure of the vampire's strength.

_Do it, Sophie-Anne! They're coming NOW! Let it be your own!_

It was enough to cause the vampire to rise from Sookie, Sophie-Anne pacing the floor. "There has to be another way. After so long, this cannot be the end."

_This is your end, Sophie. _

_The end. _

_The end. _

_The end. _

Sophie screamed aloud, and raced to Sookie's side, gripping the telepath's hair in a manicured fist.

"Then we will die together, little telepath. If I cannot live, you will not either."

**OIOIOIO**

Barely a glance was paid in Sophie's direction, the vampire who lay sprawled on the floor with the spindled leg of a chair plunged through her chest.

She'd missed, though not by much, and now could not bring herself to move for the pain that accosted her.

Pale as a moonflower, Sookie lay in a heap upon the floor, only a small amount of blood trickling from the puncture marks in her neck. Her eyes were closed, and for a moment both men feared she'd already passed.

As it was, she hovered on the edge of death. Kneeling by her side, Henrik felt her light quickly receding from them. Clasping her small cold hand in his, he reached inside her, grasping for that golden thread that was quickly being drawn into a tunnel of darkness.

"_Please don't leave us, Sookie,_" he pleaded, tears in his eyes as he pressed his cheek to her hand.

The whole world seemed to freeze, as at long last she allowed him to hold her. They teetered on the brink, and Henrik knew should he lose concentration for even a moment her spark would be consumed by the eternal night, that inevitable darkness that as a doctor he'd fought all his life.

"You're the only thing that can save her now." He looked to the vampire who knelt at her other side, stroked her face gently with the grim look of a man who knew the look of death all too well. Blood tears stained Eric's eyes, and the vampire blinked furiously to clear his vision.

"You mean turn her."

There was a reluctance in his tone that surprised the doctor. Isn't that what the vampire had wanted all along? To keep this woman forever?

"You're afraid she'll be angry with you, at a time like this?"

Eric realized his reluctance stemmed from exactly that; this moment weighed most telling for him, for at this moment he realized with an utmost certainty that he respected Sookie as a sovereign equal. And yet, the thought of a life without her seemed an unbearable prospect. He'd lost so many, in his long life, but never had a death terrified him so.

"I'll take the blame, if that's what you're worried about," urged Henrik impatiently, winning an unkind look from the vampire.

"I would happily blame you," snipped Eric, sinking fangs into his wrist, "But she would never believe me."

A stream of blood burst forth, and Eric poured it into Sookie's mouth, stroking her throat to coax her unconscious body to swallow.

With every drop that passed, both could feel her flickering flame strengthen, and both could have sobbed for the relief in it.

But the flow from the vampire's wrist slowed, and not because the tear in Eric's flesh healed.

"You don't have enough blood, do you?" questioned Henrik.

"I have bled much tonight."

Without another word Henrik tore the collar of his shirt away, and understanding perfectly, Eric sank fangs into the column of the doctor's throat.


	40. On The Third Day

**On The Third Day**

For three nights, Sookie lay in a cocoon of darkness. However, she did not know three nights passed, or much of anything else. There was only a simple and blessed nothingness. The still void of death, and there she found peace in its arms, until something called her forth from her place in the womb of the universe.

Gradually, something stirred within her, some spark returning, some essential evidence of life. Bit by bit, she became more aware.

She lay in an enclosed dark space, in someone's strong arms.

She knew this spicy thick scent, and the notes of blood too.

The true pain came, when she remembered.

Her mouth opened, ready to be filled with a scream, when soothing large hands cupped her face, a voice she knew well whispering soft assurances into the shell of her ear.

_Safe now. _

_Rescued. _

_Not dead. _

Not alive, either.

She curled closer to the large body next to her, tucking under Eric's chin. In their dark enclosed space, tucked safely into his arms, Sookie likened their coffin to a womb, giving birth to a new chapter of life.

With the tip of her tongue, she could feel the sharp tips of fangs laying in wait to spring to use.

"We survived?" were the first words she whispered in the dark as a vampire.

"Yes, lover," answered Eric softly. As though he knew the way she hungered for his lips, he pressed them against her mouth, quenching a thirst deep in her soul for this piece gone missing so long.

"Henrik?"

"Alive." In the hospital, for blood loss - but a price he paid happily, to see Sookie returned from the abyss of true death.

"Sophie-Anne?"

"Dust."

Godric decided to leave his charter as sheriff in Texas for a crown in Louisiana.

"Pam?"

"Waiting at home for our return."

Sookie fell into stillness, digesting these revelations, and Eric found it to be a curious thing. New vampires usually awoke with only the desire to feed; only after quenching the first and most ravenous thirst for blood would some semblance of sanity and personality return.

Sookie stewed in her thoughts; there was one more life gone unaccounted for, though as she'd only suspected its presence within her, with the same intuition, she felt a sinking certainty that it had slipped away with the loss of her own humanity.

With every passing moment of silence between them, anxiety rose in Eric, the likes of which he'd rarely known. He feared that Sookie would resent him for turning her, even if the only other option was death. He realized by now that he needed her in ways he'd never fathomed possible - that life without her could only go on in shades of gray.

"Can I take a bath?" asked Sookie, completely surprising the vampire in her order of desires.

"You are not hungry?"

"I am…covered in three-day old blood, and I want it off me."

Eric paused, and for the life of him he could not read her. "Very well."

Effortlessly, Eric lifted the heavy lid of their coffin, letting twilight spill into the room. They resided in one of his safe houses, an apartment in the French Quarter.

Sookie's small hand gripped Eric, for as their dark womb of a coffin opened to the world, she could hardly believe the brilliance of it to her new senses. Conversations down on the street drifted to her acute ears, as though being held in their very room. Night no longer impeded her vision in the least, all lay clear as day before her.

New Orleans. She could almost _taste _the mischief in the air of this great southern city, just waiting to break free at the slightest excuse.

Carefully, she extricated herself from the coffin, marveling at the strength she felt in her bones. The sudden knowledge that she could leap a whole story from the balcony into the street without coming to harm. It was a heady and intoxicating thing, and at that moment, she knew the first pang of hunger.

She wasn't ready for that. With a will of iron, she pushed it away, and Eric watched his newest child with interest. He led her to the bathroom, and as he made to follow her inside Sookie held up a pleading hand. "A moment to myself?" she requested, and taken aback, Eric retreated a step, allowing her to shut the door behind her.

She did not lock it, he noted, and wondered at this turn of events. Could they truly claim to have made it out unscathed?

Hardly.

Sookie began to run water in the bath, and as the tub filled she looked upon herself in the mirror, her pretty white dress torn to tatters, stained with blood in angry splatters dried to darkened rust. Compared to her glowing skin it seemed a dull thing, and she pushed it from her shoulders to pool at her feet. Her eyes, such a clear and luminous blue, welled with the crimson red rimming of vampire tears, as she regarded her new and nude body in the looking glass.

Between her legs and down her thighs was an angry black stain of blood, and she knew what she'd lost, even in gaining immortal life. Suddenly, for all her senses grounding her, the world still seemed slightly unreal. The room spun, and Sookie sank to her knees, sobbing. She cried and cried, feeling as though pieces of herself melted away with every rolling tear, until she only consisted of a puddle of heartbreak upon the floor.

It was strong arms that pulled her back once more, scooping her up from the cool tiles of the floor, lowering her into the steaming warm bathwater with a sturdy wall of muscle at her back. He was her rock, her anchor, and when the tears died down, their flow was replaced by words. At that moment, Sookie knew she could keep no secrets from Eric, and so she told him everything.

With a grim expression, Eric listened to the way Sophie-Anne had plotted with the two telepaths. How she'd flung them together like horses in a pen, but deep down, a part of Sookie couldn't help but love Henrik. Couldn't help but want it, even if just a little. But the game was played for all or nothing, and in the end, Sookie lost it all.

"Do you hate me now?" Sookie dared ask, curled against Eric's chest. "Do I disgust you?"

"No, lover."

Eric was all too familiar with the vampire pastime of posing impossible choices to mortals for the amusement of it. Though there was jealousy, a dark cloud that roiled in his soul, Eric still found he would not have chosen the doctor's death as the alternative.

With a fine soap and natural sponge, he began to wash her of the stains that clung to her skin. As he cleansed her, he too divulged his confession, and Sookie listened with wonder at the story of Sinead's rescue of him. She sat so silently as to almost unnerve the vampire, and in a rare moment of vulnerability, he found himself asking, "Are _you_ angry with me, Sookie? For all this?"

The telepath understood he referred not just to his moment with Sinead, but to turning her vampire as well.

Sookie waited in her answer, long enough so that the vampire practically squirmed.

"No, Eric," she finally answered. "I'm glad. She saved you in a way I could never - and I'm grateful that we will have more time. Always, I hunger for more time, with you."

The vampire grumbled approvingly, and Sookie reveled in the vibration from so deep in his chest, her ear pressed against the hollow between his pectorals. She could hear his mighty heart beating, a steady _drum drum _within the cavity of his chest, and at that moment she found she hungered for him in ways she'd never imagined. She craved the warm rush of his blood filling her mouth, his powerful, ancient essence running through her veins, giving her nourishment and strength. Her fangs flicked down, and Sookie pulled back with surprise written clearly in her azure eyes.

Carefully, she touched fingers to them, testing their razor sharp tips. She pressed harder, finding it took nearly no pressure at all to break the skin.

Eric watched the ruby drops well upon the tip of her finger, a hunger of his own flaring to life. Academically, Sookie had always understood his desire for blood, but now, she _knew_. She felt him, in the most visceral way, and she offered her maker the finger that bled so daintily.

"You are the one who needs to feed," proclaimed Eric, kissing her fingertips, staining his lips with crimson. "I am impressed by your newborn control, but that does not mean we should press our luck."

Sookie moved to straddle Eric in the tub, teasing the strong pulse of his neck with the tips of her fangs. "Let me taste you? I can smell…_oh, _I can nearly _taste _how sweet and heady your blood is from here."

"You will need human blood, Sookie. There is no escaping that."

"Mmm," she sighed, tracing his vein with her tongue in a way that sent an incredible thrill up his spine. "I want it all."

And as usual, Eric found he himself knew not how to say no to her.

"Go on, lover," he urged, liking the idea of being her appetizer. Later, they would take to the streets. If anything, New Orleans was a city that could be counted on to host a plethora of wicked humans, ripe for the taking. His fingers slid into her hair, resting at the base of her skull, guiding her to him. "You know what to do. It's written in your blood now. Listen to your instincts."

Almost hesitant, Sookie slowly moved to hover above his pulse, her plump little mouth feverish against his skin. The newly dead still retain something of a spark of life, a certain heat that fades with the centuries, and Eric sighed for it. She tensed against him, before pressing down with her fangs, breaking past the skin to free the wealth that ran below.

Sookie surprised herself with the ease of which she latched upon Eric in just the right way to catch mouthful after mouthful of his sweet blood. It filled her belly, satisfying her hunger, and she couldn't imagine human blood to be better than her maker's.

Little did she know.

**OIOIOIO**

Three days later, the hospital released Henrik, and the doctor hitched a cab to Eric's residence in the French Quarter. The sun still hung high in the sky, but the day-maid let him in to wait in the living room, on Eric's orders. With a book in hand, anxiously Henrik awaited the fall of the sun below the horizon.

He feared the sight of Sookie, as much as he looked forward to it.

Would she still be the same? What changes would the turn to vampire bring? A million questions raced through his rapid-fire mind, so much that upon waking, Sookie herself felt dizzied by them.

She'd retained her telepathy, and her powers burned strong as ever. Humans remained an open book, and even some young vampires she found easy pickings to read. Eric, however, remained a blessed blank, though admittedly she did not try hard to break through his shields. So soon after so many changes, she knew losing that peaceful silence with her lover would be too much to bear.

"Henrik's downstairs," she whispered, curling into Eric, who had been awake in their coffin for hours.

"I know. Are you ready for this?"

"Yes," answered Sookie, though she snuggled even closer, making no attempt to rise just yet. Perhaps she had fangs now, but she still enjoyed a good cuddle before rising. The absurdity of it amused Eric to no end, and he wondered how after all their trials, things could have possibly turned out so well.

As he'd always suspected, Sookie made a staggeringly good vampire, absorbing her lessons as astutely as he imagined she soaked up a professor's words in the classroom. Feeding, glamouring, melting into shadows, moving too quickly for the human eye to follow all seemed second nature to her now, and he marveled at her as ever. She threw herself into adapting, intent on survival.

Only in certain moments would she pause, already adopting the perfect stillness of the undead while lost in her thoughts. In her eyes, was the look of a woman who'd lost something dear, and Eric's heart ached for her.

Where there was jealousy, regret, there was also empathy. He more than anyone knew the pain of losing a child.

Now, Sookie would never have a chance to experience human motherhood. She would never wonder at a life growing inside her, kicking in its impatience to greet the world outside. She would never know the pain of giving birth, the sacrifice in bringing new life into the world, or that special, pure smile of a newborn in the arms of its mother.

And Eric knew, of anyone, Sookie would have been a wonderful mother.

Yet, he also knew a certain relief, that there would be no child molded with the features of she and the doctor running about their lives. It was one thing to forgive an abstract deed of the past, but to faced with the sight of it everyday? He honestly could not say how he would have taken the situation. No matter how he loved her, even he may have succumbed to resentment.

For this night Sookie chose a sapphire blue dress, just purchased a few nights before from a boutique down the street. One nice thing to be said about New Orleans - many establishments stayed open late to cater to the ubiquitous vampire element of the city.

Eric watched her select the dress with a certain sadness in his eyes; Sookie felt it pull at her heartstrings, and she turned to find him gazing upon her mournfully.

Concerned, she placed the dress upon a hook, crossing the room to stand before Eric. "What's wrong, lover?"

"The night you are to see him, you chose the prettiest frock of the collection. I only wonder if you do it on purpose, or if he is so ingrained within you, you shall never be free?"

Sookie turned to regard him quietly, and Eric stood pinned by the intensity of her gaze, somehow unable to discern the emotions of his child before him, the complex thoughts running rampant behind her eyes. "And what would you wear, if Sinead waited down below?"

A small smile curled the corner of Eric's mouth. "I would pick the blue one too," he jested, earning a playful smack. He caught her hand, pulling her close to nuzzle the bend of her neck, earning a shudder of delight. Though they had shared a coffin these past three nights, in all the excitement they had not made love since their reunion, and Eric found himself hopeful at that moment to remedy their dry spell.

"We cannot be each other's one and only," sighed Sookie. "It simply does not exist, Eric. It's a myth."

"Spread by Christians, no doubt," grumbled Eric, winning a soft laugh.

"You're always blaming the Christians."

"They have much to answer for. Then what shall we be, lover?"

With a glint in her newly-glowing eyes, Sookie pushed Eric towards the bed, a small but playful shove he succumbed to gladly. "We're lots of things, my Viking. No one mere word can possibly describe us."

"Name me some."

Another little push, and gladly he fell to sit upon the foot of the bed, a sudden hunger apparent in his gaze upon Sookie. "We are bonded hearts, we are child and maker," she mused, approaching him with a sway in her hips he found intoxicating. She climbed to straddle his lap, and Eric pulled her close with hands upon the rounds of her buttocks, so that she could make no mistake of the way he wanted her. Her fangs lowered with a _snick_, startling her. They seemed to move with a mind of their own, and she had yet to master them.

Eric smiled at her wide eyed surprise, and leaned in to suck upon the dainty and sensitive white points gently, winning a sigh of desire. She wondered at the way her newly acquired teeth seemed to be connected to her deepest nerves and other things; they were an appendage ruled by the two most powerful forces of the universe, hunger and desire.

"And we are lock and key," she went on as he rubbed against her, tilting her head ever so slightly.

"And what do we open?" questioned Eric between kisses, lavishing attention upon the graceful curve of her neck, his hands stroking lightly over her curves, igniting a fire to roil within her.

"More love than we possibly know what to do with," she answered, and Eric scooped her up in his arms, moving them farther back on the bed.

"I know what to do with it," he assured her, leaning over her small body, fingers stroking gentle lines up her thighs, till his hand disappeared beneath the hem of her nightgown. He palmed the curve of her hip, squeezing the flesh there appreciatively. "I am going to love you senseless. Repeat as necessary. For as long…" He caught her lips in a ravishing kiss, scrambling her senses, new and acute as they were. Eric was her drug of choice these days, and happily she skipped down the path of hopeless addiction. "As you can stand me."

Eric settled more weight upon her, and Sookie arched her back against him, craving his body around and inside hers with an almost _painful _voracity. "I think I might go mad, if we're ever separated for so long again," she confessed, her fingers delving into the waistband of his boxers. "Take these off."

"What about Henrik?" teased Eric, smiling through a kiss, taking her lips once more. That night, he sought to claim, and no inch of Sookie's mouth remained unknown to him. "He's waiting for us downstairs."

Sookie sighed for the clever fingers kneading her breast, caressing her nipple in a way that caused her nerves to sing his praises loud. "He can wait just _a little _longer," she decided, and with a growl of approval, Eric slipped a muscular long thigh between her legs.

**OIOIOIO**

At long last dressed for the night, Eric and Sookie descended the stairs, to find Henrik standing by the window of the parlor, looking down on the busy street below.

"You're looking fit," said Eric with some amazement, remembering the state of which he'd delivered the doctor to the ER.

"Modern medicine can work a multitude of miracles these days," answered Henrik casually, as though he didn't know what just transpired the floor above. He turned towards them slowly, as though afraid to look. "You-"

He stopped dead in his speech at the sight of Sookie, clasping Eric's hand loosely in her own. She was a vision in blue, her blond hair glowing lustrous as moonlight in the waves that reached her waist, her skin a few shades paler and utterly luminous. As their eyes met he fancied there was a pull of glamour, though perhaps more likely it was simply the power of their azure beauty calling to him. "My god," was all he could get past his lips, finding himself leaning heavily against his cane.

Slowly, Sookie stepped towards the doctor, her hand sliding from Eric's as she glided silently across the room. She paused for a moment before Henrik, before slipping into his arms, pulling him into a close embrace, careful of her newfound strength. She found it hard to imagine she could throw him across the room as a doll now, but just the other night she'd pushed over a car at Eric's goading, just to test her limits.

She had yet to find them, it seemed.

"You are a vision of health, my dear," he whispered against her hair.

"Even for a dead woman?" she teased, voice slightly muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

"I know death when I see it," insisted the doctor. "And _this _is not it."

Sookie inhaled deeply, and found Henrik's scent bordered on utter distraction, her small hands fisting in his shirt. "Oh, you smell so…" She pulled him closer still, with a force that startled Henrik. "_Sweet_." She followed her nose to the bend of his neck, inhaling once more as she brushed the skin gently.

Henrik knew himself to suddenly be in something of a dangerous position, and yet he found he couldn't quite bring himself to care, helpless against her will. Was it vampire power, or simply his desire to be devoured by her?

"Sookie," warned Eric, ready to intervene should his child need it. This was the first sign of losing control she'd displayed in the past three days, and of course, he mused darkly, it would be her doctor to drive her there.

"Is this what I smell like?" she questioned, resisting a feline urge to rub herself up against Henrik, to wallow in his essence. The thought of the taste of his blood caused her fangs to flick down, and Henrik glanced to her nervously.

"Yes," answered Eric. "It is the fey blood. Do you see now how difficult it was for me, not to snatch you up the moment we met?"

"Mmm," was the only answer Sookie could compose. A cry escaped Henrik, a mix between pleasure and panic, as her fangs grazed his pulse.

But just as Sookie nearly readied to sink her teeth into him, and Eric nearly pounced upon her to separate she from the doctor, she stopped herself. With an iron will, she gripped her hunger, pulling it back within her. With a shuddering sigh, she backed away from Henrik, leaving the doctor with a tremor dancing down his spine, and a haunted shadow in both their eyes.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, and in an effort not to leap back upon him, she hid behind Eric, wrapping her arms about her maker's trim waist. "I want to go home," she sighed, nuzzling into the space between his shoulder blades, one of many hollows that matched her form so perfectly. "Can we fly back to Sweden tonight?"

Eric's large hands went to cover hers, and the symbolism was not lost on either the Viking nor the doctor, as their eyes met across the chasm of the parlor.

Perhaps still Sookie did not belong _to _Eric, but she belonged with him. Henrik could see it clear as day, and for what seemed the thousandth time, his heart broke for Sookie Stackhouse, and their love that could never be.

"Yes, lover," answered Eric. "There's an Anubis at midnight. We will all be on it."


	41. Epilogue: Of Kings and Queens

**Epilogue: Of Kings and Queens**

At long last, at this late hour a rare silence settled upon the Jurgenson mansion that Henrik found he appreciated more and more as the years went on. His old bones craved stillness now, as in his younger years they'd desired action and excitement and motion. His grandniece and nephew now slumbered down the hall, as did Annika and her husband. It was a few days after Christmas; they would remain until the new year, before returning to their own home in Uppsala.

Patiently, he waited, watching the moonlight travel across the floor of his dark study. Soon, she would come. Somehow he knew this; perhaps Sookie did not appear to him always when he wanted her, but always when he needed her most.

Sookie Northman, the vampire queen of Sweden.

She and Eric had wed, not long after returning from their tragic adventure, to find King Viggo had succumbed to the wasting spell cast by Fionn. Sookie made as ravishing a bride as she did a vampire; he had it on good authority from the pictures plastered across the media of the King and Queen stepping out into the world on their first sojourn as man and wife - - though he'd been invited, Henrik hadn't quite been able to bring himself to attend. The rest of his family had, little Annika even filling the role of flower girl.

At first, it was in photographs that he most often saw her, after returning from Louisiana. The public delighted in nosing about the new royalty as they had the last King, and Henrik too watched their lives with a sort of masochistic fascination.

It wasn't until a year later that she surprised him, ambushed him, graced him, with a visit to his bedroom late in the night. He'd awoken to a gentle but cold caress upon his cheek, finding the lady of his dreams staring down at him, clad in nothing but a sweet lace nightgown. His heart lurched for the sight, but somehow he greeted her with some sort of dignity. _Queen Sookie, in my very own home. To what could I owe this pleasure?_

Sookie's red lips had curled in gentle if not tragic smile.

_It's time for this to stop, Henrik._

_This _referred to his injured leg, he knew by a gesture of her hand, even if the appendage remained covered by a blanket.

When the doctor remained silent, Sookie urged, _Take my blood. It will heal you._

Eric too offered Henrik this, more than once, after the infrequent times Henrik attended a board meeting. He knew the sight of him limping along, cane in hand, must have inspired something akin to pity in the vampire. But Henrik did not exactly refuse for pride, so much as a deeply seated sense of guilt. The leg, he reasoned, would be his cross to bear for all his failings. He'd failed in saving Sookie's humanity, failed in saving their child.

When the doctor shook his head no, Sookie had released a frustrated cry, climbing to straddle him. _Don't be so stubborn. You have to stop blaming yourself._

In the end, she brought him round, the way she always did.

After several infusions, Henrik found he could walk normally, even run after a futbol.

One issue she never did win with him; he never quite managed to move on.

He dated, but never married.

He filled his life with his work and caring for Annika, finding happiness and fulfillment in these things that carried him through the long years.

Perhaps Sookie had become a queen, but she remained humble, rarely wearing a crown. (Though there were occasions in the privacy of their own chambers, that Eric enjoyed the sight of her in a diamond tiara and white thigh-highs). She did throw herself into philanthropic work, not just at the telepath center, but with abused women and immigrants. All roads she herself had walked down, and she felt a certain duty to use the weight of her crown and newly acquired wealth to help others along their way who needed it.

"The moon is beautiful tonight."

Henrik started, to find Sookie seated beside him, following his gaze out the window. Her lithe young body only seemed to laugh at the years that passed by them, her beauty just as staggering this night as it had been forty years ago. The years had not been so kind to him, despite the vampire blood, but he did not mind. It was all apart of being human, the destiny he had chosen. Sookie had offered him immortality, more times than he could count, until finally he'd begged of her not to tempt him anymore. She'd sobbed for the way she could see him deteriorating before her very eyes, weak mortal flesh succumbing to the wear and tear of time, but respected his decision. Now, only in her eyes, could he read her regrets and wishes to make him impervious to age and disease.

"But not as beautiful as you, my dear," he complimented, and she slipped her hand into his. The flesh was warm but loose, veins bulging over bones, wiry blond hair turned to silver. "How was Louisiana?"

Around Christmas she would return to her home state (an easy thing now, with Godric as King) to visit with her brother and the friends she'd left behind for a new life. Sam still tottered about Merlotte's, and she reckoned he would continue to tend bar until he collapsed on it. For old time's sake she would sometimes pitch in a hand, and the old shifter delighted in elbowing his patrons after she left with a wry: _Y'all realize you've just been served a chicken basket by the vampire queen of Sweden? Eat up!_

"Just fine." For hours, they spoke of small things, reminiscing and laughing quietly as old friends. It was only as Henrik began to fall asleep in his chair, that Sookie stood to take her leave of him. The doctor managed to laugh at himself, making some joke of how he couldn't stay up to all hours of the night anymore, as they had in their youth, that broke Sookie's heart without knowing or meaning to.

A long time ago, he'd rescued her from the hand life dealt her.

It only seemed fair to her, that he let her return the favor.

But he'd refused the gift of eternal life, and so she was left to watch him slowly walk to his room, after a warm embrace of goodnight.

She always feared now, watching him go, that it would be the last time she saw him. She would hover outside his window at times, more than he could ever know, just to hear the sound of his breathing, before moving on with her night. This was a lesson only time could teach a vampire. The inevitability of change in this world, in which she was a rock, watching fragile living things pass her by.

Sookie's boots crunched in the snow outside, the air kissing her skin with a biting chill. She reveled in the stillness of winter, the dark silhouettes of the trees against the blanket of glowing white. She wondered if she could ever leave this wonderful place as easily as she'd fled Louisiana. Perhaps not, though deep in her breast, she felt a stirring some nights for new discoveries that startled her.

Securing her fur hat upon her head, Queen Sookie took to the air. A skill only in the past five years she'd acquired - still, an amazing thing, for a blood drinker so young. But Eric's blood was a powerful concoction, and she a quick study.

Because she liked it, she decided to light upon the quay of the Gamla Stan, delighting in the old buildings as she walked along the water. At three in the morning not a soul but her stirred in the Old Town. From there she would return to the "palace", the opulent old house she and Eric shared. Their favorite residence remained the castle in the suburbs, but necessity dictated the royal couple move closer to the heart of the city. Eric gave Pam club Loki, which became purely a place of diversion, and a lucrative one at that.

Up ahead, a tall figure clad in black waited upon the quay, looking out over the harbor, the lights of the city blinking warmly on the other side. "Surveying your kingdom, darling?" she asked, melting into the arms that waited for her.

"Awaiting the return of my wandering queen," Eric amended, pressing a gentle kiss to the chilled tip of Sookie's nose.

Caught in the icy blue depths of his eyes, Sookie paused for a moment, lost in thought. She did wander quite a bit, though never terribly far. Not yet, at least. She'd been told by older vampires that a wanderlust would hit her at some point, that she would desire new places, away from her maker. At times Eric would look upon her with a sadness in his eyes, and she knew he thought of this coming time, when she would want strange surroundings more than the life they built in Sweden.

It all seemed so far away now, in his arms, though maybe not unfathomable.

But if change would be a certainty in her vampiric life, an inescapable foe, then also she knew Eric would be her constant. That no matter where in the world she wandered, there would be love for her, there would be a waiting pair of arms. She thought on the way she'd once fled from him, but now she'd come to truly understand what could be meant in that powerful word: _mine_. For she would carry Eric with her, no matter how far she flung, and he her.

Sookie tilted her head just a fraction, catching Eric's soft lips in a kiss that after all these years, still weakened her knees.

"I see it in your eyes, that you're afraid I'll leave you soon."

Her King groaned as he nuzzled the warmth of the bend of her neck, kissing the place where once a pulse beat strong against her skin. Now, only on special occasions, but still he craved her. "I can sense your growing restlessness. You have been precocious in all things vampire, Sookie, why not this?"

"Because," she reasoned, lifting fingers to comb soothingly through the hair at the base of his neck. "I am so very content here, with you…"

She kissed the shell of his ear, and he rose to receive her lips once more. "But?" He could hear the hanging thought in her sentence, as he always seemed to know when she did not quite speak all of her mind.

"Even if I do leave, someday, I will always come back to you. Because you're mine, Eric Northman, and that is how I love you."

Eric paid her a blindingly brilliant smile, remembering a particular night forty years ago when he'd decreed something strikingly similar to her, and still she sighed for the beauty in his joy written across his handsome features. Amidst shared past and future uncertainty, of all the lessons Sookie learned as a vampire, it was to appreciate the moment she stood in.

And this particular one burned almost too lovely to stand, in the arms of her King, looking out over the lights of their city reflecting upon the waters of the harbor.

"Well, we needn't worry about it now."

"No."

"Because you're here with me tonight."

"Yes."

"And for many nights after that?"

"Surely."

"And your love for me is a vast and fathomless thing, that all the oceans could not fill?"

"Oh, truly, indeed."

Sookie giggled as he swept her small form up into his arms, taking to the air with an effortlessness she had yet to master. "Good, my little Valkyrie. Prove it to me?"

She pulled him into a kiss that curled the Viking's toes, distracting him to point that they wobbled just a bit in their flight across the city.

"Any time you like," she promised, and it was a promise she would keep, all across the world, for centuries to come.

**Fin**

**A**/**n: Bet you thought there wouldn't be a happy ending, at the rate we were going..haha. Thanks again, everyone!  
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